And I'm getting no sleep.
Since this is mainly because I'm writing so much*, I don't actually mind, except for the part where I'm hallucinating from exhaustion and even that is sort of interesting, you know, like a really cheap high, not that I know anything about getting high, heavens no, I don't even like drugs. (Heh.)
It's hitting near a hundred here every day and has stopped raining. My lawn has also stopping growing. That's a silver lining, I suppose. The heat is daunting. Along with the not sleeping, and the fact that I don't actually care about anything but writing at the moment, it's making it hard to get anything else done. I get to school and get my classes met; I manage to keep up with prep work (barely); I very nearly keep up with the grading; I make (some) of my office hours. That's about it.
Poor mr delagar and the kid are living on yogurt and fish sticks and toast. (No, I actually don't feel sorry for mr. delagar, who is the same age I am and could, in fact, cook if he wanted to. I do feel a bit sorry for the kid. Not sorry enough to cut back on my writing time. Eee, what an evil mother I am.) The house looks like a slum. I'm hoping no one calls social services on us. When we are utterly out of clothing and towels, I do laundry. When we are utterly out of dishes, I howl at mr delagar until he runs the dishwasher. When we are utterly out of yogurt and toast, I find my keys and stagger to the Wal-Mart, which luckily is open 24 hours a day.
That's how things are going here.
And why blogging has been light, lately.
Fortunately, the kid's grandmother is coming next Monday, to stay for a week. I bet she'll cook something.
*I'm in the middle of the sequel to the SF novel I finished last month. Yes, apparently I have lost my mind. Thanks for asking. I don't actually know what's up. Don't care either. It's just brilliant to be writing again. If it means I'm writing nine hours a day and waking up at four in the morning every morning to get the writing done and not getting to sleep until midnight, hey, I'll take that.
46 minutes ago
1 comment:
I marathon write. I get an idea or have an idea and friends may say do it this way and then I am off, like a horse at the tracks. Round and round and up all night and when I am not writing, I am remembering, and when I am not doing that, I am writing in my head. It never stops. I don't know. Some people call writing a curse, not me. It is the best thing that ever happened to me. Finally, a place to say what I want and no one tries to shush me up.
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