Having just eaten 80% 85% of a bag of chocolate coins, I figured I could be doing something useful tonight. Hello. *waves*
Of course it’s the kind of night which should have a whiskey in one hand and a blazing fire across the room, but I live in a modern flat was gas central heating. And the gas meter reads £0.00 because we forgot to check it. Whoops.
It’s been a hard couple of months, and tonight is a day off from the book. I’ve written enough novel-attempts to know when I just need a breather day. But that leaves me without a subject to occupy my time, and my fingers are itching to type.
I have no cats to post photographs of (the cats I call mine live 50 miles away with my parents), and nothing witty to say about day-job or my personal life. My other half is sat on the sofa beside me, reading some academic paper for some teaching he’s doing tomorrow. He’s drinking green tea with mint, I have raspberry and peach.
I’ve tidied away the wrappers of chocolate coins he received for Yule but hadn’t eaten (but upon noticing my low mood, brought out to me without question to give them to me. I gave him a few back, he ate his share… I call this teamwork.)
Damh the Bard‘s latest album Sabbat is quietly humming in the background. We’re out of gas for the night, but it’s warm enough. The washing up will wait.
And it’s nearly time for bed. I have one more day at work before a 4-day weekend, where I intend to at reach the last few chapters, if not scenes, of Planes Shifter. It’s been a long road, but I finally feel I have a working story.
Sometimes, it’s okay to take a break from the words; a chance for the creative brain to rest. To enjoy an evening of quiet.
My book will still be there tomorrow, ready for me to resume my edits.