It’s the Second Day of Work Camp, and it’s raining.
Apparently I slept through some good thunder storms, which is great with me, ’cause I needed a good night’s sleep. I was still up a couple of times in the middle of the night, but only for a few minutes before I drifted back to sleep. And for some reason I had a dream where I was riding a ferry alongside Benedict Cumberbatch, and we were going to work on an island, and he had some kind of phobia about being on land that was surrounded by water–which, if you think about it, means he’s totally screwed no matter where in the world he goes. Maybe that’s why he likes going into space: no water surrounding you. Or being a dragon living inside a mountain; you don’t see the water.
The dreams were crazy. There was something else in there about a friend’s daughter wanting to have sex with me, and a friend was coming to visit me, and she was expecting me to rub myself against her in ways that would make her feel most excellent. Well, then. I don’t often dream of being asked for sex, but when I do, I have it happen twice in one dream.
Though my friend never did show up in my dream–she only spoke to me on the phone. Bummer. Maybe tonight.
I made it through the first day of work unharmed. Today I should have computer access, so I shouldn’t feel too much alone. I can’t complain: I have an office of sorts: a large cube with high walls, and I door I can shut. It’s still a bit funky, but compared to the broom closet I was in back at The Job From Hell, this is like being moved to a hotel suite. Maybe that’s why I hated Indy so much: I was stuck in a closet and I needed to come out. Get it? Come out! Hoo, ha, I got a million of them this morning.
Finally, after hours of my network trying to download my Scrivener update, I managed to finished editing Chapter Nine of Couples Dance. It was maybe two thousand words down the fairy hole, but that brought everything in line, and I’d forgotten about the entire end of the chapter after the reading of the journals. That’s what happens when you stay away from your work for too long. At the same time that’s what you need, because the story isn’t fresh in your mind and you can become amazed by it once again. Or disgusted. Depends on how well it was written.
The big push tonight will be to get through as much of Chapter Ten as possible, wrap it up tomorrow, start on Chapter Eleven, and then breeze through Chapter Twelve. Looking at this, I mentally note that if I’m not out running around this weekend–and I don’t expect that to happen–then I can finish this edit by Saturday. Maybe line up a few beta readers, get that ball rolling, and work on something else in the mean time.
Hey, it’s getting light outside. Still raining, through.
I’ll take it.