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smokingbootI am in a peculiar slightly irritated mood.
A friend is meant to be coming around for dinner tonight; it's the old chum from the studio who has moved into my brother's house, and I am feeling odd about it. I am antsy because on some level, I am angry with him about his (possibly)thieving ex.
This is so very unfair I am trying to find the cause behind the cause; maybe I am cross because I am tired, because my writing is so slow, because my PC is dying of old age, because of some internal challenge I haven't identified, because because because.
Truth is I am exhausted. But the truth also is that my friend is sunny and funny and they'll lift my attitude. I am fretting in case they bring their ex with them, but they won't. They are more likely to bring their dogs, and then look a little regretful if I say they can't be let off their leads in the house. But doggies are fine, we'll just go for a walk in the woods.
No, this irritation has no real basis. My writing...well, it is moving, but I don't know what that means really. I have a sinking feeling that the story is just about to really start, and when I go back over it, I will consider the first 20,000 words completely irrelevant.
Maybe I am just suffering from a wet day.
A friend is meant to be coming around for dinner tonight; it's the old chum from the studio who has moved into my brother's house, and I am feeling odd about it. I am antsy because on some level, I am angry with him about his (possibly)thieving ex.
This is so very unfair I am trying to find the cause behind the cause; maybe I am cross because I am tired, because my writing is so slow, because my PC is dying of old age, because of some internal challenge I haven't identified, because because because.
Truth is I am exhausted. But the truth also is that my friend is sunny and funny and they'll lift my attitude. I am fretting in case they bring their ex with them, but they won't. They are more likely to bring their dogs, and then look a little regretful if I say they can't be let off their leads in the house. But doggies are fine, we'll just go for a walk in the woods.
No, this irritation has no real basis. My writing...well, it is moving, but I don't know what that means really. I have a sinking feeling that the story is just about to really start, and when I go back over it, I will consider the first 20,000 words completely irrelevant.
Maybe I am just suffering from a wet day.
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