it's a great life, if you don't weaken (matociquala) wrote,
it's a great life, if you don't weaken

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1300 words last night, due to insomnia. I have not yet looked at them to see if they are coherent.

I'm somewhat scared.

However, it's raining in Las Vegas, and is supposed to rain all day. Huzzah! We're promised as much as half an inch, which may mean flooding and retrieving the boy this afternoon made interesting. But in the mean time, rain!

And I just had apple-cinnamon oatmeal, and despite only getting two hours of sleep last night I almost feel human, which is completely odd. (I generally do just fine on about six, and anything over seven is sheer luxury. I can maintain functionality on five for a week, or on three and a half for one day--but if I try that for too long, I do rapidly get tired enough that I could doze off crouched in a corner with my forehead resting on the stock of my rifle. If you know what I mean.)

I'm currently struck by the tremendous worry that the nonsensical Elizabethan politics have contaminated my work so thoroughly that nothing in The Stratford Man makes any sense.

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