Have I mentioned the tired thing?
You know it’s funny, because on Sunday, I got up to go be a productive citizen, got out of the shower, barely got dressed, crawled back in bed and slept for two hours. When I got up from that, I curled up in chair and knit while Mate went shopping and took the short people out to play. I blamed that moment on post book depression, but the next night, Mate felt sick and woozy and went to bed early. After that, this entire week has been dogged with the sort of exhaustion I usually save for early pregnancy–I’m starting to wonder if maybe we weren’t both sick. (NOT pregnant– brother, was THAT a crappy analogy.) I’m thinking we were, because last night I could barely keep my eyes open over the keyboard.
Anyway, that being said, I really don’t have a whole lot else! (Or, I do, in a way, but I’m not ready to process it right now. A moment occurred at work. I failed to be brave in an instance when I, of all people, should have plunged into the fray, sword swinging. I am not proud, and I do not know how to explain my lack, other than chronic exhaustion and a lack of belief that children should be that damned cruel. Anyway, like I said, not sure how to deal… I’ll let you know when I am.)
But I do have a couple of tidbits, one kind of ‘meh’, and one that I found hysterically funny. For your perusal:
No agent for Amy. Alas, alas, the agent has deemed me ‘too original for genre fiction’ (his exact words, all!) and I’m not sure whether to be depressed or flattered. I AM a little disgusted with the American reading public, I’ll tell you that much. I mean, I go on the forums on occasion and I get a whole lot of “Why to books ALWAYS…” and “Why can’t anyone ever come up with something original?” *whine* Well, now you have the answer. Apparently people are coming up with original shit all the time. Publishers just aren’t putting it out there. Well, I shall continue to stand on the electronic street corners, dressed in something spectacular and a little distasteful, with a cyber-sign reading PLEASE READ MY BADLY EDITED BOOK. (Which is so unfair, because, folks? Rampant’s editing ROCKED. Just saying. Editing team? You did so good!)
And the other thing, the one that I found hysterically funny was this–and may I add, if I have lost my sword-swinging paladin capabilities for the moment, I am pleased to say that Chicken has found them.
The other night, Chicken was heard in our house asking questions about Josef Stalin, because her history book was not giving her a clear picture. Mate and I obliged, and yesterday, the following conversation was heard in Chicken’s classroom.
Wide-eyed student world history teacher: “So, Chicken– can you tell us who Josef Stalin was?”
Chicken: “Yeah–he was a total douche-bag!”
Student Teacher: “Uhm… can we phrase that a little more… uhm… professionally?”
Chicken–ingenuously: “Well, Mr. Stalin was a really really bad man who screwed up his country and killed a whole lot of people. How’s that?”
Student Teacher: “Uhm… better.”
Yeah, I know– I should be telling her to phrase her answers a little more ‘professionally’ *smirk* but I’ve got to tell you–I NEVER would have had the ovaries to do that in high school. Me so proud. I should also add that if one of the teachers in my school had been told that Stalin was a total douche-bag, the automatic response would have been, “Excellent–you’re right. Can you tell us why?”
