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I'm probably a horrible person for admitting this, but I did a noble thing for thoroughly selfish reasons today. I volunteered to work in the Club because two people I dislike working with would (by my absence) be forced to work together, and it just amused the hell out of me to contemplate it. Besides which I was feeling sore and cranky, and thought I needed a bit of paid vacation time. So I worked in the Club, the ladies were overjoyed by how diligent a worker I was (I washed every coffee cup, polished all the spoons, cleaned out the ice bin, and scrubbed the kitchen sink), I didn't have to deal with the idiots across the hall, I made $11 in tips (and an extra ten bucks in wages, and in all about $60 more than I'd've made by calling in sick, see), and I also wrote about 3500 words of the climax of the novel, startling myself by my character's abrupt reversal from being quite frankly a bit of a sentimental wuss into being something of a badass.
So, in all, a productive day.
And then on my way out I stopped across the hall and asked the frazzled girl who was still there, "How was it?" and she went off on a hysterical fifteen-minute tirade about The Awfulness, and I restrained my glee and acted sympathetic. I mean, I was sympathetic, of course, but there was a bit of shadenfreude behind it all. If that's a proper use of that word. (I get confused sometimes.)
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vulgarweed's Good Omens fanfic has got me to the point where I just can't go on living without reading the original book. Which would, of course, then give me a reason to go reread all her things. It's sort of wrong and backassward, but I just couldn't resist, and oh. Oh my.
I'm going to go keep writing. I'm in a very productive place at this point, after being virtually undisturbed for eight hours (I poured four glasses of wine, opened one beer, poured about five glasses of soda, and made one gin and tonic today. It was a total vacation) and I suppose I should keep riding the train, as it were.
Although I've recently had an excellent idea for a nonfiction book project I want to work on. Does anyone know anything about nonfiction? I really don't, but now would be the perfect time for me to learn. I really think it's a good idea and one I, at the moment, have the connections to research adequately.
So, in all, a productive day.
And then on my way out I stopped across the hall and asked the frazzled girl who was still there, "How was it?" and she went off on a hysterical fifteen-minute tirade about The Awfulness, and I restrained my glee and acted sympathetic. I mean, I was sympathetic, of course, but there was a bit of shadenfreude behind it all. If that's a proper use of that word. (I get confused sometimes.)
vulgarweed's Good Omens fanfic has got me to the point where I just can't go on living without reading the original book. Which would, of course, then give me a reason to go reread all her things. It's sort of wrong and backassward, but I just couldn't resist, and oh. Oh my. I'm going to go keep writing. I'm in a very productive place at this point, after being virtually undisturbed for eight hours (I poured four glasses of wine, opened one beer, poured about five glasses of soda, and made one gin and tonic today. It was a total vacation) and I suppose I should keep riding the train, as it were.
Although I've recently had an excellent idea for a nonfiction book project I want to work on. Does anyone know anything about nonfiction? I really don't, but now would be the perfect time for me to learn. I really think it's a good idea and one I, at the moment, have the connections to research adequately.
