There. That's 1200 words of essay down, despite scrubbing the kitchen floor and making pancakes and starting bread in a desperate bout of displacement behavior. I'm just making tea, and then I will cowboy up and open the damned bloody miserable TSTM file and start work on it.
Looks like there's a pub date for Chill, for everybody who has been patiently waiting for one. It looks like the MMPB drops on 29 December of 2009, if Amazon has its shoes on. If I get any galleys, there may be an auction to benefit Some Worthy Cause.
I have invited the dog up on the sofa because my feet were cold. He was so excited and happy and wracked with disbelief at his good fortune that he could not actually jump up for thirty seconds; he just had to stand there and wag his whole body.
Also, because he grew up in Florida and is thusly a total sissy about cold, despite the eight inches of hair covering his entire body, I threw my lap robe over him, too. Now he's lying on my feet, sighing with large doggy contentment... nope, spoke too soon. He must have passed out with delight, because he just got 30% heavier.
BEST DAY EVER.
(My mom came to visit over the weekend, and while he was happy to see her--and [eventually] even more happy to see the tiny little nondominant girl dog she brought along so we could work on his PTSD issues--he was very definite that he wanted to stay here, please, and not go home with her. Yes, he's already spoiled rotten.)
((Also, he likes cara cara oranges, but he won't eat canteloupe or watermelon.))
(((The cat is upstairs, tucked under my feather comforter and refusing to come out.)))
The five stages of revision:
I wonder if it's too late to give the money back and go get a job in food service? Because God, I hate this book. I hated it last year when I was revising it, and I hate it even more now that I know my editor hates it, too. :-P
Oh, wait. I hate food service, too.
Oh, the anxiety. Yeah, it's gonna be a fun month. I hope you all like prayers for a quick death.
Well, I escaped the evils of book hell revising long enough to go climb tonight, and had a really good night. I fell a bunch, and had to rest, but I got a brand-new blue 5.8, overhung, because they took down my orange 5.7 on the same wall. And I also did a bunch of routes I've done before, all of them better this time (including the very overhung 5.7 that has been my bete noir for Some Time Now. I may be getting to be not afraid of it anymore). That was very encouraging.
I also started a 5-something that's not yet rated, but I didn't really give it a good shot. I got on it, though, and I may go back and thrash at it on Wednesday. I also want to work on the balancy green 5.9 in the back room (I've climbed it, but not well), and the black 5.8 with all the slopers in the front room.
I'm actually kind of starting not to suck at this. If I were lighter, I think I'd be a pretty solid 5.9 climber on technique and strength, but because I am a big person, it takes a lot more effort for me to hold myself on the wall and move up than it would if I weighed 140 pounds. My strength is becoming fairly formidable, however, especially when you consider that I'm a chick. I'm even getting to the point where I don't actually hate the physical act of climbing--there are parts where I even feel competent and capable, like my body knows what it's doing and my brain can help.
It never lasts, mind you.
But boy, does this sport do fantastic things for my serotonin levels....