I played hooky from work on Friday. I had no choice. I woke up early, laid there thinking about how much I didn’t want to go to work, and when I finally got out of bed, I went right to my computer to email my boss that I wouldn’t be in. Sorry, boss. I needed that. This week, for some reason, was pushing me towards burn out. I spent a lot of time working on tedious reports. That made me cranky. Friday would have been more of the same. Not so much the tedious reports as research, which this week anyway, leads to people arguing with what I tell them and acting like I have no fucking clue what I’m talking about. I really, really didn’t need any of that.
I thought hard about getting out of the house, but the prospect of putting on real clothes didn’t appeal to me. So I cranked up my tunes and wrote. I finished a short story of just over 3,000 words. Needs some editing and more plotting. It’s the first of a series I’ve had in mind for years now but completely redone. Because I love Jack Runner so much, I really wanted to bring him back from the dead at some point before I realized that I was done with him and needed to leave him where he was. Dead. In whatever afterlife or lack thereof he could find. I really don’t want to, or need to, drag him out of that. The new series picks up 110 years after Jack’s death. The Agency’s gone. The monsters are out of the closet. But then came something even worse. The new series contains seeds of the old (yes, someone thinks it’s a good idea to try to resurrect Jack; others disagree.) and bits of a story that have been kicking around for several months now, alluded to in the jailbreak post. I’ve snagged some random characters that I never did anything with and dropped them into the war zone. I don’t think this first story is good right now, but it’s done. It’s on paper. It’s a lot of info dump right now, but that’s for my benefit mostly. Next step is turning it into a real story.
I started on a series of poems about a week ago and haven’t gone back to it. I’ve tried to convince myself to enter one of two (or both) chapbook contests with deadlines at the end of May. I look through the poems I have, and I think they’re awful. Maybe they are. Maybe they aren’t. Reading them killed any thoughts I had of calling myself a poet, even as a joke. Which isn’t fair to the poems, really. It’s not their fault. I think I need to wait, find other contests, start submitting again like I wanted to months ago. I don’t know.
Yesterday was shopping day. Clothes shopping. Didn’t get much, but that’s fine. I still need to update my wardrobe. Nothing makes me more uncomfortable about my gender than clothes shopping. Women’s “fashion” is just plain ugly to me. I don’t know why women’s clothes have to be pigeon holed into an ideal of femininity that’s not that attractive. I can’t be the only female looking for something a littler plainer and more professional. On the other hand, there are probably men who wouldn’t mind a little more flair in their clothing, gender identity and/or sexual orientation aside. I’m probably shopping at the wrong place, but that’s what I’ve got.
Also yesterday, I got a Nook. This will not stop me from buying physical books. There are several on my radar that I didn’t find digital versions of. It will, however, make it much easier for me to make sure I always have something to read. None of this oh shit need books must go to library but it’s cold and people will be there and pajamas are way better than real clothes. I do very much like the Nook. Haven’t really tapped into everything it’ll do yet, but it’s mostly for books anyway. Maybe a game or two. I did pop Words with Friends on it. I suck at Scrabble, though.
As far as games go, Diablo III comes out Tuesday. I’ll get it eventually. I’m going to make a barbarian named Knuucklehead (two Us in hommage to my DII barbarian, Huung). I’m also going to roll a demon hunter because, yeah, dark bad ass killing machine? Yes, please. I don’t think I’ll have much interest in Words with Friends after that.
I suppose I should go do real life stuff today. Not that I have any interest in yard work at the moment. Don’t wanna get fussed at for not doing anything useful today.