You know when you have so many things to do, that you kind of hang suspended between them? None of the things are great and major, or even particularly difficult, but there are so many of them and they have to be all done at the same time. I don’t even know where to start. I made some progress today by cleaning the kitchen.
On the writing front, I’ve received the file back from Anne Victory
(need to pay Anne), which means that most likely, after finishing this post, I will generate an ARC of Curran POV’s. I kind of have a strong urge to just lump Julie’s story and Adam’s Cousin’s story into it, but that would be a lazy mistake, because they are not thematically similar. Need to somehow come up with a third story for those two stories, so they can be together.
Need to edit more of Magic Breaks. Hate it right now. HATE. The beginning reads like a huge infodump, because Anne Sowards insists on having everything explained. She has a point – it’s the first hardback and new readers are likely to at least leaf through it – but I am so sick of explaining things. Strongly thinking of making a primer in the beginning of the story and sticking it in there. Gaaah.
Clean Sweep is now on iTunes. Still no Kobo. Grr.
Need to do laundry.
Need to fold old laundry.
Need to wrap gifts.
Need to make something for dinner, probably fish.
Need to say thank you to everyone for sending everything.
Need to go to post office to check the PO Box. (Typed this as POV box first and then stared at it, not sure what’s wrong.)
Need to call Anne Sowards about the chocolate.
Need to call to Dina and Slabby before they leave for Scotland.
Need to make arrangements for more gifts.
Need to knit more of the sweater. Have half the sweater, looks awesome.
::waves arms:: Also, Aunt J still hasn’t given us an account to wire the money for the tiny cabin for Memaw. I swear, we had this conversation the other day:
Me: I’m not chasing Kid 1. She isn’t five. She is seventeen years old. She knows where Robitussin is. She knows how much to take. She need to medicate herself.
Gordon: I’m not chasing Aunt J. She isn’t five. This is 2013. She knows the number. Pick up the phone, call, give me the account number, and I’ll wire the money.
Parents and kids, at one point in your life, they’re kind of the same. O_O