Housework. Writing Work. A Cheeseburger

Despite not feeling particularly well (sore throat, sinus problems, other things), I've managed get a remarkable amount of housework done today. Laundry, dishes, cat maintenance, general straightening, and I took down the card table we used to hold food during Saturday's gaming session.

I spent some time on the OWW as well, reading six stories and criting three of them. I need to prepare something to upload to the 'shop soon. I sent a query off the Weird Tales about a story they've had since February, I started working on a rewrite (I received a rejection from Between Kisses on a piece of flash. The editor said to expand it out and send it to his other magazine, Aoife's Kiss), poked at the Red Riding Hood in Space story, and read a bit.

The new mattress and box-springs come tomorrow. I'm excited. I'm doubly excited because I've slept like crap the four nights in a row and I'm thinking a new mattress might help matters.

I'm craving a cheeseburger, and not just any old generic fast-food bland-burger. I'm craving the kind of cheeseburger you find at little roadside greasy-spoons scattered all over the south. The kind of cheeseburger cooked by a fat old ex-biker with a dirty apron, three days worth of stubble on his chin, and a tattoo that says "Momma." The kind of place where the waitress wears one of those old classic white or pink uniforms, has horned-rim glass, and talks too loud. I want the fries to have been cut from a potato right there in the kitchen and I want the whole thing brought out to me in a little plastic red basket lined with wax-paper.

I want that kind of cheeseburger.

But I'm making stir-fry for dinner.

Housework. Writing Work. A Cheeseburger

Despite not feeling particularly well (sore throat, sinus problems, other things), I've managed get a remarkable amount of housework done today. Laundry, dishes, cat maintenance, general straightening, and I took down the card table we used to hold food during Saturday's gaming session.

I spent some time on the OWW as well, reading six stories and criting three of them. I need to prepare something to upload to the 'shop soon. I sent a query off the Weird Tales about a story they've had since February, I started working on a rewrite (I received a rejection from Between Kisses on a piece of flash. The editor said to expand it out and send it to his other magazine, Aoife's Kiss), poked at the Red Riding Hood in Space story, and read a bit.

The new mattress and box-springs come tomorrow. I'm excited. I'm doubly excited because I've slept like crap the four nights in a row and I'm thinking a new mattress might help matters.

I'm craving a cheeseburger, and not just any old generic fast-food bland-burger. I'm craving the kind of cheeseburger you find at little roadside greasy-spoons scattered all over the south. The kind of cheeseburger cooked by a fat old ex-biker with a dirty apron, three days worth of stubble on his chin, and a tattoo that says "Momma." The kind of place where the waitress wears one of those old classic white or pink uniforms, has horned-rim glass, and talks too loud. I want the fries to have been cut from a potato right there in the kitchen and I want the whole thing brought out to me in a little plastic red basket lined with wax-paper.

I want that kind of cheeseburger.

But I'm making stir-fry for dinner.

Two Things

1. Carolina was just too fast on the ice for Edmonton to handle, at least tonight.

2. One of the drawbacks to having 16 pieces out on submission is that sometimes the rejections roll in fast and furious and you start to feel a little battered.

Kind of like the Edmonton Oilers.

Two Things

1. Carolina was just too fast on the ice for Edmonton to handle, at least tonight.

2. One of the drawbacks to having 16 pieces out on submission is that sometimes the rejections roll in fast and furious and you start to feel a little battered.

Kind of like the Edmonton Oilers.