cazart doldrums

But the kitchen floor is swept and the rugs washed.  Every time I put down fresh rugs Buster puts a footlong skidmark on the one closest to the fridge, and I hate looking at them.  Clean your bum, duDE!

Word count is now 33260 but I feel like I’m gonna be Penelope on everything I’ve written the last three days so I’m not going to count em up until later.

I want to lie in the sun for a week; I feel like contentment is purring next door and I can’t leave the house (not literally true – went for a walk yesterday with Paul which was very pleasant and yes mOm he got the family history books.) Not hearing back from the job interview doesn’t lift my mood. Every time I go for an interview I’m knocked off course for a while as I panic and think I’ll never finish this novel if I get a job and start thinking very very Marvin-ish thoughts.

So PM me if you want me to keep writing.  I’m a little shrivelled at the moment.

Published by

Allegra

Born when atmospheric carbon was 316 PPM. Settled on MST country since 1997. Parent, grandparent.

Leave a Reply