Strangely Socialised

I haven’t forgotten you exist. No, that’s a lie. I have forgotten you exist. Frequently. But only because I had other things on my mind. Important things. Like boxers or briefs, and paper or plastic.

The truth is that I’ve written over a hundred thousand words in the past couple of months and I’m feeling pretty good about it, but there is a great deal of editing in my near future.

I think I know what I’m doing with my Christmas vacation.

So I’ve made my bed, organised my files, done some RPG administrivia, caught up on Supernatural, caught up on Torchwood, reorganised my website and changed my desktop background. I have not written one single word since Friday afternoon. One might think that being snowed in would increase productivity. One would be wrong. And if I wanted to continue my streak, I have a couple of thousand books that need organising, but perhaps getting myself into some pants and out of the apartment would do wonders for my frame of mind. If nothing else, it’ll get me a latte and some snapshots of the latest dumping of snow on Toronto this year.

I keep meaning to do a roundup of all the things I’ve been reading, but apparently there wasn’t time to fit that in between alphabetising my DVDs and swiffering the library.