Goodness me, a sunny day today. How shocking. None of us really know what to do about it and are staring out of the window with our mouths open. What a very pleasant image. Still, it won’t last – the forecast for the rest of the week is rain. Followed by rain. Best make the most of it then.
I’m struggling with working out my travel expenses for travelling to the York conference in the new system. Apparently I’m allowed extra money per passenger – and as I took one person up to York and brought two people back (hey! I made a friend!), the maths is beyond me. I can see I shall have to rely on weeping and Ruth. Again. Must be my hormones.
Talking of which, this lunchtime, I went for my appointment with the lovely HRT doctor to see how I’m doing. Answer: OK, but I have to go in for an ultrasound scan on Friday, groan. Ah well, at least the wait isn’t too long. And hey at least it’s something to do for the weekend! The nurses at the clinic had read my Surrey Advertiser article and were all keen to buy Thorn in the Flesh so that was encouraging. I gave them the website details and will hope for the best!
In the meantime, I seem to be surrounded by online writing friends who are all getting high-powered agents and publishers and super-incredible deals. Without seemingly so much as stirring from their writing desks. Hurrah and General Rejoicing for all, of course! But, if I’m honest and human, my teeth are gritted. Severely gritted. So darn gritted in fact that they may well be welded together for all time. Deep sigh. Dahlings, sometimes the bitterness is the only thing keeping me in one piece.
And I’m ruddy tired, I must admit. I really have to aim for an early night at least once this month. I also suspect I’ve been slogging away too much on the Goldenford website and accessories, and my eyes are now begging for a more distant view. Maybe trees and fields and birds. Hmm, that sounds nice. In addition, I really need to do a few lines to The Bones of Summer fairly soon before I forget entirely what the story is about. Or, worse, where it’s going. That’s the trouble with doing web stuff – it’s deeply addictive, darn it.
Tonight, I’m at Guildford Writers. I’m taking along my short short story set in an office, so I’ll have to see what they think. It’s a bit of a wildcard tale really. Heck, I should be used to that.
Today’s nice things:
2. Guildford Writers.
3. Dreaming of an early night.