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The past few days, wow: On Monday left home at 6 and got back home around 11pm or possibly later - I'm not really sure, I just know that we got to bed around midnight. Eor decided he needed a day off from work and so we were able to sleep in until 6 on Tuesday. Again, I didn't pay close attention to our arriving home time, but just like Monday it was nuke some quick nachos and then drop into bed, exhausted. I think we might have got to bed somewhere around 11pm.
This is partly because we have one car between three of us at the moment, and partly because of my stupid-ass training schedule, in at 1230 out at 2100 (9pm). Hawk's bass-mobile was running Monday morning, he gave me a ride to work, but the transmission seems to be having trouble again, so yesterday he studied at school until I got out of work. He has a Toyota minivan of about the same vintage as Eor's Vanagon, mid-Eighties; a supremely practical transport if you play the upright bass and like a vehicle you can sleep in at music festivals, but it's wearing out, and unfortunately there are not as many Toyota fans around as VW fans, to keep the parts being manufactured.
I'm going to see if I can't be out a little earlier this evening - I think all the people who are training and testing today will probably want to be done as early as possible, so it could happen. Eor says he might just stay at work until I can get there, though I think he could get a ride home.
I haven't been reading as much of "Temeraire" as I had thought I would, because the book is too large to carry around - it's the compilation copy of "His Majesty's Dragon," "Throne of Jade" and "The Black Powder War," so HUGE. Instead I've been carrying the most recent Asimov's. At least I got a lot of writing done, yesterday.
I kept staring at the lovely journal Eor's Mom (I think it was) gave me a while back and trying to squeeze out a few words of story and it wasn't working, so yesterday I went and bought myself a new unlined notepad, and the words just came. I know everything about writing is completely psychological, and that seems to be my cue - I need unlined paper in a spiral binder. I also set myself a rule about crossing out, yesterday - one or two words, if I realize in time, but no more of this killing whole paragraphs and pages while I'm in draft-mode. I've got to just start getting words out, again, and not worry too much about if they're right.
The journal, however, got a lot of journalistic writing in it before I got the notebook, because I've decided that these things are not going to waste any more.
This is partly because we have one car between three of us at the moment, and partly because of my stupid-ass training schedule, in at 1230 out at 2100 (9pm). Hawk's bass-mobile was running Monday morning, he gave me a ride to work, but the transmission seems to be having trouble again, so yesterday he studied at school until I got out of work. He has a Toyota minivan of about the same vintage as Eor's Vanagon, mid-Eighties; a supremely practical transport if you play the upright bass and like a vehicle you can sleep in at music festivals, but it's wearing out, and unfortunately there are not as many Toyota fans around as VW fans, to keep the parts being manufactured.
I'm going to see if I can't be out a little earlier this evening - I think all the people who are training and testing today will probably want to be done as early as possible, so it could happen. Eor says he might just stay at work until I can get there, though I think he could get a ride home.
I haven't been reading as much of "Temeraire" as I had thought I would, because the book is too large to carry around - it's the compilation copy of "His Majesty's Dragon," "Throne of Jade" and "The Black Powder War," so HUGE. Instead I've been carrying the most recent Asimov's. At least I got a lot of writing done, yesterday.
I kept staring at the lovely journal Eor's Mom (I think it was) gave me a while back and trying to squeeze out a few words of story and it wasn't working, so yesterday I went and bought myself a new unlined notepad, and the words just came. I know everything about writing is completely psychological, and that seems to be my cue - I need unlined paper in a spiral binder. I also set myself a rule about crossing out, yesterday - one or two words, if I realize in time, but no more of this killing whole paragraphs and pages while I'm in draft-mode. I've got to just start getting words out, again, and not worry too much about if they're right.
The journal, however, got a lot of journalistic writing in it before I got the notebook, because I've decided that these things are not going to waste any more.