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thessalianI must and shall finish the two-part ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
alison_1669 entry for this particular fortnight. I'm just having a hard time getting Alison past "squee!". However, I did do another ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
non_plot challenge, back in the universe in which I was writing the first two. I may actually have to collect those in some kind of novel-looking thing if this keeps up. Huh. Straight fiction works.
There's too much to write and too little ... well, energy is the only way to really describe it. Which is kind of stupid if you think about it, because frankly it's not like I do a whole hell of a lot in my job anyway. I really am just a glorified skivvy, deemed too young, inexperienced or maybe even stupid to take on the tasks of a full-blown secretary. I made 24 hot drinks today, total. Fuck, if I'd wanted to do that I would have been a barista. Fine, not paid so well, but the principle remains the same. I laminate things. I bind things. If I'd wanted to do that shit, I'd have worked at somewhere like Kinkos. I do all the menial crap that Vera doesn't want to bother with while she flaps and screws up stuff that I could do in my sleep. I'd much rather be doing a job I could do in my sleep than doing a job I could do in my grave. And the dumb thing? Remember the other week when I talked about how people were getting at me for not wearing 'professional' gear? Well, Vera's been coming in for the past couple of days in jeans and a T-shirt. It makes me want to burn things.
Maybe it's just will that I'm missing. Hell, by the time I've got through a day of drudgery at work, I barely have the will to stand up, much less make decisions or create universes.dodgyhoodoo still speaks wistfully of a massive lottery win, but I tend not to think about it just because wishful thinking is really not my strong suit. I don't do wistful longing, and I start to feel that the minute I think of a world in which I have nothing to do except write. You can about imagine what Thren starts doing when I start on that line anyway.
Massive thunder and lightning storm pretty much directly over the house. The cat is hiding under my skirt. It's quite fun to watch, but there's enough geek in me to worry about power cuts and what a surge might do to the Frankenbox. (Live. Live! LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! It'd be like some unholy cross between Frankenstein's monster, HAL and the Last Dalek, with my luck.)
alison_1669 entry for this particular fortnight. I'm just having a hard time getting Alison past "squee!". However, I did do another non_plot challenge, back in the universe in which I was writing the first two. I may actually have to collect those in some kind of novel-looking thing if this keeps up. Huh. Straight fiction works.There's too much to write and too little ... well, energy is the only way to really describe it. Which is kind of stupid if you think about it, because frankly it's not like I do a whole hell of a lot in my job anyway. I really am just a glorified skivvy, deemed too young, inexperienced or maybe even stupid to take on the tasks of a full-blown secretary. I made 24 hot drinks today, total. Fuck, if I'd wanted to do that I would have been a barista. Fine, not paid so well, but the principle remains the same. I laminate things. I bind things. If I'd wanted to do that shit, I'd have worked at somewhere like Kinkos. I do all the menial crap that Vera doesn't want to bother with while she flaps and screws up stuff that I could do in my sleep. I'd much rather be doing a job I could do in my sleep than doing a job I could do in my grave. And the dumb thing? Remember the other week when I talked about how people were getting at me for not wearing 'professional' gear? Well, Vera's been coming in for the past couple of days in jeans and a T-shirt. It makes me want to burn things.
Maybe it's just will that I'm missing. Hell, by the time I've got through a day of drudgery at work, I barely have the will to stand up, much less make decisions or create universes.
dodgyhoodoo still speaks wistfully of a massive lottery win, but I tend not to think about it just because wishful thinking is really not my strong suit. I don't do wistful longing, and I start to feel that the minute I think of a world in which I have nothing to do except write. You can about imagine what Thren starts doing when I start on that line anyway.Massive thunder and lightning storm pretty much directly over the house. The cat is hiding under my skirt. It's quite fun to watch, but there's enough geek in me to worry about power cuts and what a surge might do to the Frankenbox. (Live. Live! LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! It'd be like some unholy cross between Frankenstein's monster, HAL and the Last Dalek, with my luck.)