I took the little kids to the pool yesterday to play after water aerobics, and after two hours, I was WIPED. OUT. Between the allergies/summer cold I’ve got going and the two hours in the sun, about the only thing I was good for when I got home was a nap and taking Big T to a meeting for his Europe group trip. (Which sucked btw, because the a/c fix on my car was apparently not fixed enough. I need to take it back because I need a chill rating of IFC in my vehicle before I take it to the streets in 100 degree weather. Ice. Fucking. Cold.)
Anyway, I was going to take them to the pool again today, but I also need to go to Target, and Friday and Saturday will be taken up with recital and dress rehearsal and, well, my allergies were pounding the snot out of me. Quite frankly, I’m bailing. I’ll go to the pool to work out tomorrow and leave the little kids home, and today is gonna be a work day. Sounds pathetic and sad, I am aware, but, well, so am I sometimes.
Anyway, I’m working on a story right now called Clear Water– speaking of which, does anybody know the name offhand of common industrial water pollutants and tests that can be fun for them? I’ve got some research methods down (and oddly enough, the manufacturers for the equipment to monitor the chemical levels were my best research sources) but I’m open for more. This is an oddly lengthed story. It’s a small romance–I was originally thinking a long novella, but I think it will probably just make novel length, and it’s… well, a personal story. Quirky. Straightforward. I’m enjoying it, because much of it is taking my characters and letting them roll, but Patrick has adult ADHD–and he’s not always easy to write. I need him to be strong, but I also need him to show the emotional extremes that ADHD can give you if you don’t have a handle on it. Patrick is sort of a tragic rabbit (thank you, Mary–I love that term!) but I need us to like him, not feel sorry for him. It’s a tricky walk, yanno?
And tomorrow is recital rehearsal (yerk!) followed by recital (blargh!) It’s funny– I both love and loathe this time of year. I love seeing the kids in the recital (and we’re booked at a new theatre this year, a big one, with air conditioning, and I’m excited!) but the time thing is big–and I haven’t even been to any rehearsals yet! Mate is doing the rehearsals– he likes being security dad. I’ve been using the time to catch up on work, since I haven’t been able to work during the day–busy busy busy. (On Tuesday, I spent the entire day in the car–literally. I left the house at eleven in the morning and returned at intervals to change kids in the car, and didn’t really get home until eight thirty at night. Considering the crappy a/c and the 100 degree day? blargh!)
I am anxiously awaiting the cover art on Living Promises–it’s out on July 4th (yup, not only sequel angst, but big release day angst. I’m sort of wishing I could just be sick that week so I don’t have to see if anybody hates this baby–I poured some blood and sweat into it. PLease I hope people love it.) And I have a release day for A Solid Core of Alpha (this is the story that had beta readers asking me what MY anti-psychotic regimen was, since I seemed to know so much about it for one of the heroes. This was both encouraging and discouraging–I had no idea I was that crazy.)
And today we’re buying… uhm… something… for Mate for father’s day. I hate shopping for Mate. I just need some sort of emotion ball that says “You. You are my everything.” And contains all the red/orange/purple/gold smushy, deep, shiny, glowy feelings therein. Yeah. Target doesn’t have one of those.
anyway–this is sort of a boring post– sorry! But I will end with how my day began yesterday, because it made me go from this: -_- to this: 0.0 to this @.@.
So, yesterday, I was sleeping. -_- It was nice. Doesn’t happen as often as it should.
Mate wakes me up. He says, “I saw Chicken’s cat eating a dead bird in the house. I don’t know what happened to the bird.”
0.0 “Jesus Fucking Christ!”
Mate says, “Really? Do you really have to swear?”
@.@– seriously– are you shitting me? There’s some sort of rotting zombie bird hanging out in the chaos, and I don’t get a swear word?
He still maintains that I was overreacting, but I woke Chicken up on my way out the door to the pool (little kids in tow) and told her that her cat’s dead bird was somewhere in the house and she had a job to do.
“What in the FUCK?”
“Yeah,” Mate said, “total overreaction.”
So now, I’m sort of like this: 😛 because, really, men. Go figure.