Barnstorming on an Invisible Segway

I woke up at midnight because my shoulder ached too much for me to keep sleeping. Took Advil, went back to sleep. At that point, I could tell I was hungry, but I was too tired to go downstairs and get something to eat. I woke up again at 5:15 and decided that getting up for the last chocolate bun was a better idea than gnawing markgritter's arm off, in the long-term. Now I'm eating yogurt with Grape Nuts in it for a snack, because 10:30 is too early to eat lunch if I'm going to make it through to 6:00-or-after dinner, and I am so hungry.

Every once in awhile I have a day like this, and it just highlights how little I actually enjoy eating. Cooking, sure, definitely. Smelling, yes. Eating, not so much.

In other not-yet-quite-news, I really like working with smart editors who have smart editing suggestions for my fiction. Sometimes I sell stories and they appear more or less as is, and that's fine, but before I started selling stuff, I expected that editors would have a knack for things I had missed. And then some of them do, and it's good. A relief.

songwind did a "first things" meme last week, so I'm going to poke that in between bits of short story revision: ( Collapse )

Well, crud. I've finished my yogurt, my meme, and most of my revisions, and I am still hungry. I suppose there's something to do about that, and while "ignore it and hope it goes away" is my first impulse, I doubt that it's the healthiest, or even the most conducive to the last of these revisions. Sigh.

Apparently it's my day to spam the lj. Sigh.

timprov and I just took missista for a walk. He coined a new word in an attempt to work around her ever-greater vocabulary, asking me, "So, you up for some peditation?" The genius poodle immediately perked up and started wagging her tail in her very specific, "A walk? Oh boy!" manner. Sigh. If we'd gotten an Afghan hound, we would not have this problem. Of course, if we'd gotten an Afghan hound, it would still be trying to figure out what on earth we could possibly mean about relieving itself in the backyard. (Incidentally, the genius poodle looks like she may have a UTI. I'll take her in to the vet's tomorrow.)

(I do not begrudge her the trip, truly I don't. We take care of each other in this house. But did I need one more thing on the to-do list? I did not.)

It turns out I really need to write Chapter 11 before any of the rest of The Mark of the Sea Serpent can gel. I could maybe finish off Chapter 18 first, but apparently Chapter 11 needs to be next. So that's the agenda for the evening. I have six chapters and a few add-ins left. They are action-y chapters. They are big, important chapters. They will, I think, be fun chapters. but the rest of Chapter 11 needs to happen first. This writing non-sequentially thing: it doesn't mean that my brain doesn't get stubborn about what happens next.

My brain, stubborn, yes, I know: I should warn you all to sit down before such shocking revelations. Well, too late now, I suppose.

A bit ago, there was a "how spoiled are you" meme going around, and everyone who did it noted how, um, random some of the stuff was. But what I want to know is, what makes you spoiled? What luxuries do you have that you really appreciate not having to do without? Right now, today, I'm thinking of two. One is that I can get fresh fruit when I want it -- there are strawberries in the fridge waiting to be cleaned. There's a canteloupe. Minnesota is not even close to its strawberry season yet, and I don't even know if we have a canteloupe season. But I can plan on eating them whenever I want to, just because I want to; I can take the fresh fruit and vegetable portion of the grocery budget utterly for granted, because of course we'll buy fresh fruits and veggies, don't be silly. Also, I can decide to have Indian takeout just because I feel like it, not because it's a greatly special occasion of any kind. It's not the Indianness in specific -- although having more than one local takeout place is probably spoiled, too -- it's that I can declare that someone else will cook for me tonight, and it will happen. Compared to most of the world, this is incredibly spoiled.