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real life

A 3905-post collection

Ooof

So I woke up at one in the morning again. Aka: fuckoff AM. What followed was a rough morning and maybe a couple of disturbed naps.

So I'm anticipating one hell of a day, today.

On the plus side, my wrists are already improving, now that I'm no longer pushing myself to write more than I should. Yay there. And I'm having some pig fat tonight.

We got some nice pork belly thawing today, and we'll be figuring out how to deep fry that noise with ribs in the way. Fun.

And then we're making pork stock with the bones. Huzzah.

Mayhem is home sick, today. So I'm hauling him off to the doctors and maybe getting a cauliflower so I can make more Cauli Patties. This time, featuring cheese.

If I get my Beloved into it, they'll turn them into Cauli Extravaganzas which will probably be more fun. But then we pretty much have to formalise the recipe and hand it over.

Because Chaos LO-V-E-S the Cauli Patties, apparently. Teaching the school how to make them could be beneficial to all. Especially those considering a low-carb diet.

Sooner or later, I'll have a low-carb for cheapos type recipe book.

I got this

Okay. So we're agreed that I need more fats. We also know that fat from a dead pig is something I can actually eat and digest without any kind of trouble.

You know, aside from absolute fucktons of cheese, cream, and mascarpone. Which I can't eat a lot of anyway.

So I have to keep an eye out for fatty hunks of dead pig. Despite my ethical quandary about consuming dead pig. And my Beloved is also doing the same.

But I

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Rest and Reconfiguration

I still can't write 1K words a day without hurting myself in the long term. Beloved insists that it's because I don't get enough fat in my diet and they might be right.

The only animal fat that I find (a) delicious and (b) easily-digestible is none other than pork fat. Which, as you might guess, is hellishly expensive. Other than that, I get my fats from Mascarpone, butter, and a hellfuck load of cheese.

Beloved criticises my daily fare as "lean"

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Catching up... slow style

You know, it's a good thing I was thirteen weeks ahead on writing Clockwork Souls [because shiny plotbunny] because it means I can pull shit like:

  • Devote my work hours to the book that should be finished already
  • Let the book I'm already working on go hang, and thus
  • Let my poor, flaring wrists fucking heal for a change.

I'm never letting this happen again, by the way. The instant a novel is finished, a raw copy goes onto my Drobo. Y'know.

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No more unsuitable food

I am honestly trying, but temptation is a bitch.

Mayhem didn't want to come to Lone Star with us, alas. So he not only missed out on some R I D I C U L O U S serving sizes and free peanuts, but he also missed out on going to see...

Tomb Raider

What up!

It was on, we were there, and Chaos got in to see an M-Rated movie that did not have an obligatory sex scene. Not even a

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Ow...

My wrists are giving me two colours of hell. Today is Friday. Usually, the day I write a thousand words in my novel and congratulate myself on a job well done.

Thing is...

I've been writing a thousand words a day for four days in a row. No wonder my wrists frelling hurt.

So I shall focus on my thousand words today, and do the catch-up with Rael on the weekend.

And definitely focus on a minimum of one day of not

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Pump the Brakes!

Okay. So. This autumn season combined with the novel recovery efforts have made writing a literal pain. Fun.

It's okay if I take it slowly. I pause when my wrists start that low warning ache. Find something else to do.

I'm not going to power through it. That noise leads to worse pain and me laying up for who-knows-how-long with all sorts of medical intervention. Been there, done that, and it's amazing that I don't have lingering scars from the bracers.

Don't

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Awake at last...

But my head is full of kittens and one (1) disco ball.

For anyone who can't decant that into rational sentences: I'm as distractible as FUCK, today.

My brain is everywhere, today. Setting up for things that I may or may not do. Getting distracted by EVERYTHING much like this comic I made once upon a time.

The plus side is that I'm awake enough to do all the things.

The bad side is that I'm too distracted to focus on any

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I do NOT know what this is

I'm tired all the time. Just behind my eyes. The rest of me seems to be awake and full of energy -hell- I woke up at like 1:30 AM [aka "Fuckoff O'Clock"] and try though I might, I could only snatch an hour's more sleep.

It could be asymptomatic lurgi. It could be the seasonal Thing getting to me in new ways. It could be a deficiency of something wearing away at me like nobody's business.

And my hip has decided

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Blurgh

So I just... zonked, yesterday. Passed out. Had a major nap-nap. Whatever you call it, I overdosed on sleep. And the good news is that I needed that.

The bad news is that I was still able to sleep for a majority of the night and my bod is like "more!" Also, I didn't get even one word in on Rael over the weekend.

It's cool. I'll make myself do some today. Monday to Friday are my gotta-work days.

The other bad

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Black Panther is GOOD

Go see it. Loads of amazing visuals, actual thought going into the scenery. Loads and loads of Africa-is-not-a-desolate-dustbowl stuff. It's beautiful.

That said, it passed the Bechdel test in the last five minutes, almost as an afterthought.

We even had the Tokens turned on their heads. Token 'good guy' white man to balance out the token 'bad guy' black man who works with the heel-face-turner actual baddie of the second and third acts. And it is nice to see the white man

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Lazy Saturday

It's 9AM, I'm watching Black Lightning on Netflix, and I'm still only wearing me undies. I haven't moved out of my bedroom and I'm loving it.

It's a time to be an absolute slob for at least half a day. Because we have plans to see Black Panther this arvo.

It's gonna be a good day today.

I'll get to my word count in Rael whenever I feel like it.

I'm having a good, old-fashioned Slug Day.

For those keeping track of

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Friday!

I like Friday. It's the one day of the week when I only have to drive once. The one day when I can relax and just get on with it.

My wrists are complaining, so I'll be taking it real slow with my words, today. I'm going on the hundred-and-break plan, which is explained thus:

  1. Write 100 words
  2. Take a break and fart around for about 10-20 minutes
  3. If total < 500 goto 1, else quit.

This way, it takes two and

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Hello, Sneezin' and Wheezin' Season

I might have a cold. I might be running foul of a dose of Chicken Pox. Or I might just be battling the Autumn weather.

Time will tell.

I have my "Shandy" as a ginger delivery system. I have some new ginger. I can get ingredients for other ginger delivery systems. And If I'm still not better after a fortnight, that's when I drag myself off to the doctor to see if there's anything that can be done.

But I doubt that

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::Evil Laugh::

Today's the day. I posted that chapter of Random Encounters and the angst floweth deep in the comments section, oh boy.

They'll forgive me at chapter twenty-four.

I didn't get 1K in, yesterday. And rather than punishing myself for that, I decided to give myself an 'out'. I write a minimum of five hundred words. 1K is the 'bonus points' goal for the day. And it may be more merciful on my wrists over time.

I have noticed a twinge or two

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