We have another middle school thingy to do this weekend, and last weekend was chock-a-block full of socializing, so I am wiped out.

Plus I’ve had a headache all day, and that stinks. I did watch the Oscars, that was fun, moreso because I’d seen five out of the ten nominated films, I think a new record for me. But anyway,

I am continuing to write, albeit at a snail’s pace. Actually, I think snails might call me Pokey.

At the Riskies.

And, in case any of you doubted my guy’s ability to be both hyperbolic and kind of a good writer–this is from a piece he wrote recently (and he even spelled ‘maelstrom’ right!):

“I was in the Gettysburg Museum, and was silently crying my heart out in a maelstrom of anguish and depression.”

The piece then goes on to describe how buying a red plush teddy bear helped assuage the anguish. Because, you know, red plush teddy bears do such things.

If one were to go through a few months’ worth of my posts, one might conclude that I am obsessed with hawt British guys.

Ahem.

Anyway, last night I started watching Season 7 of MI-5, now featuring Richard Armitage. Shirtless. With Russian tattoos.

Dear lord.

This season is already fun because Harry is so openly kick-ass, and honestly, I like seeing Ros kill people. So there you go.

But my own proviso is that I cannot continue to watch unless I am also being productive in terms of writing and other Enormous Things To Do. My own carrot/stick scenario.

Meanwhile, le swoon.

1. I am no longer sick. The Spouse seems to have caught it, though.

2. I am trying to write when I have a spare hour, like this one, so I’ll still not be so chatty here. Plus my life is as dull as it’s always been, so no news there.

3. I have 143 pages done of the current WIP. Yay! Likely heading towards 400 pps.

4. I like hockey now, thanks to HDTV and the Olympics. I cannot find a good pic of Ryan Miller, but I thought he was amazing.

5. Next weekend I might get to see the Delightful Phone Friend; seeing the Picky Vegetarian at the end of the month in Portland. SO EXCITED.

6. Still waiting to hear on a submission. Many digits crossed.

7. Okay, off to write. More later.

I am so late, and terribly scattered over at the Riskies today. Be forewarned.

I’ve got an ennui-ish kind of illness, a real one, not just Frampton Fatigue.

So today I took TWO naps and moped around. I hope to feel better tomorrow.

I’m at the Riskies today–because, duh, it’s FRIDAY–talking about low frustration tolerance. Join me, won’t you?

. . . only not here. Worked on the Evil Synopsis yesterday, and will be writing later today. I’m setting modest goals for myself, 1000 words a day, which is doable in my land.

When my life gets at all interesting, you’ll be the first to know.

I am so parched for ideas I can’t even think of a title for this post.

Huh.

I am writing this week, because I can, and taking care of other things that need taking care of. Not meaning to be cryptic, but you don’t need to hear about my backed-up dishwasher.

So I am going to be doing what I should be doing, and try not to waste time. So here goes. And STILL no MI-5 in the house. I haz a WICKED sad.

I love you like the jubilant eyes of the wonderful, mysterious octopi,
you help me in life through and through (like the protective mother of a cockatoo).
You make me happy, as happy as an iguanadon, and I love it that I get to call you Mom.