I'm now officially forty-five years young, dear readers. Today I have to deal with a dental appointment for Miss Chaos, and cleaning, because scheduling mess-ups yesterday. And the Instant, and the release of this year's All Hallow's Read story. And the regular stuff.
Master Mayhem has joined the musical 'band' I'm calling Ellipsis Addiction. We'll never tour, because it's just like... us having an argument over what sounds good. We'll keep going as long as it's fun, I guess.
If we do tour, it'll be more like a 'watch us work' seminar where we do have an argument over what sounds fantastic and create a new song or two for the paying audience. A spread of healthy nibbles will be provided if said audience is affordable that way. For all the degrees of 'healthy' from Vegan to Keto.
That's if we get that far.
What would be nice to receive would be a positive response from the postal agents I sent my shit to some months ago, now. That would be the single best act of synchronicity the universe could provide.
But I cannot fish for serendipity by asking for it, alas.
I have high hopes. It's always good to have high hopes.
I worked out what I've been panicking about enough to give me a lump in the throat, last night. I'm forty-five. Most of the people in my family line don't live much past eighty. And thinking about that too much has me worried about death and whatever happens after that.
And then I have another asthma attack.
Life in my head is such fun.
The good news is, if this is a mid-life crisis, then I could well live to ninety or more. Let's hope. That's another forty-five years of free spooky stories and forty-five years of weird books from yours truly.
And, who knows? Maybe actually getting published at a professional level.