(I'm bringing along a few of my mates as I wander through the vast wilderness of the publishing industry, learning the ins and outs, and having a grand adventure.)(Cue "List of Very Telling and Troubling Events")
- My laptop--you remember little Byron Austen D
ell, whom I took into my home and heart and laptop carrying case only a few short months ago--has been ill. How ill? Please reference the picture I have very conveniently provided. ---> His difficulties began as a simple, yet infuriating error message, which popped up every 30 seconds for several days. It was very annoying. Nothing I did got rid of these messages. The "click here for more information about this error" thingy didn't help at all. Soon thereafter the screen began blacking out for no conceivable reason. Then keys began falling off the keyboard like some kind of computer-leprosy. I have backed the little guy up and am preparing for the worst. *As of this posting, he seems to be improving a bit. Cross your fingers. Momma can't afford a new laptop* - Oh, yes. There's more. I have been unpacking lately.
Strange how that always seems to follow packing and moving. In my haste to finish my day's allotment of unpacking so I could do some much needed writing, I did something entirely stupid and probably avoidable. I slammed my finger in a door. The distal-intermediate joint of my digitus tertius took the brunt of the impact (that's just fancy talk for "the top joint of my middle finger). The good news: it's not actually broken. The bad news: It is so stiff and so sore that I can hardly move it, which brings us to #3 on this very depressing list.
- The voices in my head are getting louder and more angry. Things have been chaotic lately and I haven't had time to do much writing (that should read any writing, but I find the very idea so tragic that I struggle to admit the extent of my writing deprivation). I was going to rectify this grievous situation yesterday... you know, right after I finished my unpacking for the day. Then I very nearly fractured my finger. I am generally a relatively fast typist (I have on more than one occasions scored over 80 wpm on a typing test--both times in order to qualify for jobs). Typing this post would normally take a couple minutes. I've been at it for 40. Pathetic. And my finger is starting to throb.
- But I'm not done. Two sick kids.
- Not feeling so hot myself.
Don't forget I Need Friends Friday right here on... you guessed it, Friday!
(ignore "Read More!")











