21/1/10

madrobins: It's a meatloaf.  Dressed up like a bunny.  (Default)
This morning has been taken up in a batch of administrative tasks:

1) Doing my Nebula Commissioner thing and checking through the nomination lists for duplications and things not in their proper categories. Hint to nominators: check through and see if the work that you want to nominate is already on the ballot and copy that format. Do not put the title in quotes, all caps, or render it in any other idiosyncratic way. Elsewise, I will curse you from afar.

2) Finishing up some quarterly administrative business for the Book View Cafe.

3) Finishing up a bit of the freelance job I couldn't get done yesterday.

4) Getting a few small household administrativa out of the way. I do not think, if the weather continues on the way it has been doing today, that Emily is going to get her drag. She doesn't look like she's interested right now; more like she's shuddering at the thought. Me too, dog.
madrobins: It's a meatloaf.  Dressed up like a bunny.  (Default)
Dear Brain: I know exactly where the short story I'm working on is supposed to go. Exactly. But you, brain, have been stubborn in your refusal to get me there. What's up with that?

Dear Story: Okay, I've dealt with connective tissue issues in fiction before. I've been around the block, I'm a sadder-but-wiser-girl. What the hell is going on here? Every time I put my finger on what I need to do, you skitter away, squealing. This is not good.