I took off from Tullagawoopwoop a little after eight AM, and thanks to Molasses Traffic [it was thicker than a traffic jam] it took me nigh on to twelve hours to finally reach my favoured domicile.
And upon my arrival, Beloved just had to take me to dinner and a movie. The Warcraft movie, of course. Because we're all old-school nerds who used to play it when it was a top-down RTS. Before it became an enormous MMORPG that we just can't afford to play any more.
Sigh.
Once again, the character design for the hollywood version fell victim to But She Has to be Sexy Syndrome, and turned the orc love interest into an orion slave girl with pasted-on baby tusks. I am dissapoint.
Also, brown people aren't allowed to talk in this movie. They're prominent on the screen, but unless you're lighter than a paper bag, you just don't get lines. I am vexed.
On the other hand, none of the elves got to talk, either, so I guess that's an unfair equality if you really want it.
Also, there is not one single frame containing the cow people or the zombies. Boo.
I've begun my new regime of un-mucking the house. The first thing I do in the morning, following the obligatory ablute, is empty the drainer, put a load of laundry on, and round up one bag of rubbish. My little darlings and my best beloved also have their appointed daily tasks. With luck and persistence, I should have most of the debris cleared away before my friend comes down to visit me.
Yes, I can hear you laughing, Friendo.
And in super-bonus news, I figured out a way to braid Chaos' hair that does not take half an hour of my time and all of my spoons. It's still a tiny bit fancy, but it doesn't involve elaborate nonsense like the one previous. Which is just as well because all the hairstyling stuff I sent down to Nanna's place did not come back to us. Growl.
And of course I have a heap of nonse to plough through. Stories to add to my master file. Samples to ready for agents. Cover letters to write. Checkboxes to tick.
It'd be easier if I could find one agent to cover all the nonse that I do, but that doesn't seem to be a thing. Le Sigh.