Valentime!

A Valentine's Day update.

Beth, Sam, and Harry are still in bed. Harry was good enough to wake me up at around 7:30 because he had to use the great outdoors. Of course, when we got back to the house after his walk, he climbed right back into bed and fell asleep. I am not so good at going back to sleep, so I've spent the last couple of hours thinking about what to make for breakfast once my wife wakes up, and goofing off in Northrend. Could my life be any richer??

I kid, of course. My life is the greatest.

We've said no gifts for V Day this year. This got me thinking: If my life were a sitcom or a romantic comedy, both of us would have gone to a friend, individually, or to a trusted but doofy cousin, or the like, and been convinced that when one's better half says "no gifts," they really mean "gifts." However, since my life is not a sitcom, nor a romantic comedy (though it is often funny and at times romantic), I am trusting that my wife and I are not so silly. So we will exchange cards and smooches, but no gifts. I think also we might get Chinese delivery from the place nearby that most resembles New York City Chinese takeout places. Which for the record isn't necessarily the best Chinese takeout. But moving on.

I'd also like to get some writing done today, which of course makes one wonder, Then shouldn't you be writing right now, while the whole family is sleeping, instead of blogging and killing brain cells in an MMO? Yeah, probably.

So. . . . Back to work: what should I make for breakfast?

Magnet Space Wheel

Folding laundry at the moment, wondering if and when Sam, Beth, and Harry will decide to climb out of bed. In their defense, they were all three up earlier this morning, for anywhere from a couple of hours to twenty minutes--it varies from individual to individual--and then returned to bed. Still, it's after ten and I'm feeling restless.

I have this weird urge to get out on my bike this morning, despite the slush and ice. Fact is, it's been so long so I took the thing out, I bet it needs a little tuning before it could even go anywhere. I'd probably make it to the garage before saying, "Ah, screw it," and coming back inside.

I haven't gotten a productive thing done in the last two days or so. The other night I started a read-through of YA MS the Second, and still love a lot of it. There are some seriously excellent scenes, not to break my arm patting my own back or anything. Of course, quite a bit is complete garbage, but I'm glad I wrote those bits too, since they all taught me a bit more about central characters. I've sketched out a few new scene ideas, which is something I've always done with fiction and until recently considered a bad habit; this writing in scenes thing seemed to always get me into trouble when it came to really tightening up the plot. But if Richard Peck says he does it that way, then hell, I can too.

I bought one of these yesterday, ostensibly for Sam, but I love it. I mean, he enjoys watching the wheely thing roll around, but it's for me. I'll let him play with it when he's older. Maybe. If he's good. Oh, and saying I "bought" it isn't entirely true either. It was for sale at the World Market closing sale last night, but as it didn't have a price tag or bar code or even any packaging, I wasn't charged for it. So I guess you could say I didn't buy it. I simply took it. Or was given it.

Grumble, grumble

I am in no mood to update this afternoon.

I have a wicked cold and cough, a Nyquil hangover (I think there's an ingredient in Nyquil, aside from the alcohol itself, that, as it wears off, puts you in an especially bad mood), and an infant son who is bucking all the rules of the schedule.

Of course, my mood is bad from within, and I am not blaming Sam for it.

Wanna know a secret? When Sam is obviously tired, and I'm obviously being a grump, and Sam keeps spitting out his pacifier and therefore won't fall asleep, and then he looks up at me and laughs, I sometimes think, Stop laughing at me! Pathetic, ain't it?

I want to thank the people at Blogger for not citing "ain't" as a misspelled word. Kudos.

Next stop, Eric Stevens Town, where Mr. Stevens has just submitted his latest Jake Maddox title to the good people at Stone Arch. I should be using this afternoon's free time to work on the mysterious (apparently) YA MS. But, as I noted above, I am in no mood.

I hope I find the proper mood soon, though. It would seriously suck if my big day of writing tomorrow was wasted simply because I'm being such a sourpuss.

I bet you're thrilled to your toes that you bothered reading this entry!

The Morning After

Groan

Woke up late* on New Year's Day. I guess, if you stay up past your bedtime**, that'll happen. I staggered into the kitchen and sighed; who likes cleaning up after a wild New Year's Eve***? Nobody, that's who. Empty cans**** everywhere, food debris***** . . . all manner of mess to deal with.

But I push on, because it is a new year, and I am starting on a few of my resolutions right away, including number 3, with this entry, and number 1, for which I will later today head to DBC for a few hours of solid work time, if they are open. [ETA: They were not.]

I have not yet begun work on resolution number 9, and instead made crepes for breakfast at Beth's request. They came out really good, and we ate them standing in the kitchen over the counter like savages--savages with crepes and expensive-looking jellies!

*7:30 am
**9:15 pm
***Punch pizza and in bed by 10:30
****Specifically four empty diet caffeine-free sodas
*****The remainders of a nice mesclun and prosciutto salad with pine nuts. It was quite nice.