personal, work-writing

Because Coffee Doesn’t Cure Cancer.

It’s been lonely here at casa-crat, my spouse is on the East Coast for the week – I managed to pull a muscle in my shoulder on Friday (helping him carry in the groceries, I was trying to look cool and increase my sex appeal).  I’ve been faithfully reminded by my body that I’m no longer in my twenties…or thirties…and the height of the pain was on Tuesday afternoon.  I had to leave work and go to the doctors, not a fun thing to do but I did it.  Extended release pain-killers and some medicated tape and a shit-ton of Sgt. Frog.  I’m feeling much better today.

I’ve started the major revisions on Femitokon—yes, this includes putting the expositional explain-y things back into the narrative.  I’d removed all forms of ‘establishing text’ and put it into a neat little compendium I’d planned to give away, but the editor feels strongly that’s not going to work and wants it all tied together.  >_<  Oh science fiction, let me stab at thee…  New Years is coming for us Heebie types, and so I’ll have a few days off from the bank to actually work on it.

October needs to get here already.  I want my new Walking Dead, American Horror Story and Supernatural.  If only they were all on the same night—Walking Dead is on Sundays which kinda sucks, because I watch Copper and Hell on Wheels on Sundays.  I suspect that Walking Dead will be taking over when Hell on Wheels ends?  These micro seasons are killing me.  :/


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