Yeah, I’m an 80’s girl, I’m not ashamed. Besides, it suits the absolute insanity of this morning so far. The folks are trying to install a new dryer vent, and suffice it to say, there was madness. Shouting and cursing, cats flying, me standing at the basement window acting as a human two cans and a string communication device.
I, naturally, got nothing done. It was like running through raindrops, getting phone calls made, trying to get deadlines extended, drinking coffee, all between bursts of insanity. The internet is on and off, the computer is misbehaving (needs another new power cord. *sigh* But I’ll tell you what, my old girl is a workhorse, and I’ve only had to replace the power cord in all the 7 years I’ve owned her. I don’t know if Dell is still as tough, but I’m still going to buy another one when I’m ready
have enough money and can bear to let Baby go for my next.) There’s going to be other work going on all day. I have two newspaper articles that should have been in by noon, but they’re not even close to ready yet. I’m hoping my editor will have mercy on me and give me until the end of the week.
Of course, when things get stressful, my gut starts to hurt. I did my Crohn’s treatment yesterday, so I know the pain is brought on by the stress, not the massive amounts of fresh veggies that I’ve been consuming (that I’m not supposed to consume — Crohn’s means being very careful about not eating too much fiber or roughage). Okay, maybe it’s stress and vegetables. I don’t care much for pain meds, but there are times when they’re just necessary. Today is one of them. Sometimes they help and I can be just as productive writing-wise; other days, if I’m forced to take a pill, it turns me into a zombie and all I can write is brblrbrlrblrbrlbl. It’s one of many downsides when it comes to chronic illness. Dealing with everyday things can be really difficult. I’m sure some of you out there in Readerland know what I’m talking about.
BUT on the positive side, it’s NICE and cool here today! I slept like a drunken baby last night, to the point that I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning, I was so comfortable. This makes for a happy ducky. That’ll come back once the pain fades.
The really unfortunate thing (in my twisted estimation) is that all of this happened when I was in the middle of writing Anevay and Liss’ first sex scene in Adirondack Shift! Argh! I don’t know about other writers, but I really need to write an intimate scene the way I like them to happen in real life — all at once, with no interruptions to break the rhythm. So poor Anevay has all of Liss’ clothes off except her frilly undies, and… I have to go get a screwdriver — and not the tasty kind! Blargh. Ah well, Papa Hemingway’s great advice is always at the forefront of my mind: this scene might turn out to be shit on the first run, but I can smooth it out in one sitting on the second.
Okay, so I finished the scene during a Camp NaNo sprint — total of about 899 words, and guess what? Wow, is it not good. Seriously. When you’re writing a sex scene, you really can overuse the words “thrust,” “slam,” and “arch.” I just proved it. BUT it’s NaNo, and it’s Shitty First Draft, so that’s okay. Anevay and Liss get to have better sex later, and I can move on to the next part of the story.
Later… Guess what? They decided they wanted another -ehem- “shot” the next morning, so they had a much better time in the kitchen after breakfast than in the living room after dinner. Now they just need a change in that pattern of “meal, then sex.”