Dear Diary

I got the desk part of my craft corner cleaned off. Yay. Which means I have a space to put the sort boxes while I sift through the REST of the craft corner. Culch and SABLE, all sorted into separate categories and stowed safely away.

With every good luck, that will occur today.

It may cost me today's story. I need to do it so the fam can move in.

And at some other point, there will be construction going on, turning the patio into an extra catio so no unwarranted escapes occur.

There will be a learning curve with the new peeps in the house. Including Jolie's getting used to said people. Poor baby.

Meanwhile, Adorable

My loves are away on their own shopping trip, so I might have some extra minutes to work on today's tale. When not attending the Promptcast's team meeting.

Fiction will be happening. I just know not when.

The backup reads [or bitch and share] are off because AMitA's showrunner is having another meltdown. Self-inflicted drama. Showrunner and Council have a knack for casting the worst possible light on things.

What they repeatedly refuse to comprehend is that the folks the Council have cast as irredeemable bogeymen... are the people making the most effort to try and help AMitA.

I am procrastinating everything that needs must be done.

In the agenda today:

• Powerwash the last quarter of the patio
• Today's

I think the fam is tackling the spare bedroom today. Which contains absolute years of hoarding craft supplies. Which Beloved promised, once upon a time, that she would organise.

Some of my SABLE dates back to the 80's.

See yesterday's blog about emotional attachment to things I spent a lot of money on.

There's also my job of moderating the Promptcast story stream. Which may or may not be a thing because the aforementioned clearing of the SABLE. Which promises to be

I have a physio appointment this afternoon and a shopping list that is growing into arm length, and no car. Or at least, no car as I write these words.

Just a little stress. As a treat.

On top of all the other stress going on because - once again - the Archive is blowing up with DRAMA.

After damn near two years of being told, AMitA's crew has finally noticed that the numbers are dropping off. This revelation has absolutely nothing

Skipping the Patreon stuff today in favour of Bread and Unfucking the House. I have boxes to sort and the house has a new skip to fill. Huzzah.

I will get the daily tale sorted, but that will be happening between everything else. Expect it late, if at all.

I have physio this Thursday and there's no sign of my lovelies coming to help unfuck the place. So I shall take command and assign some tasks to the kids. Namely - moving

I hope to get today's story underway after the fam has decided to take a rest for the evening. Hope. If not, I shall commence piling up the twofers.

I expect to be spending a majority of my day tromping around and moving things. Lifting heavy objects or carting them hither and yon.

I might get a chance to get a few words in when resting my poor sore feet. Time will, of course, tell.

These next four weeks are going to