I know I'm in my own world... it's okay, they know me here

Every time I go to the hairdressers down south I tell them the same thing - that the biggest problem with my hair is volume. I have super-fine hair, and it has no body to it really - I have to use two different products to give it any bounce, which I happily do myself. So I say that I want them to blow-dry it as big as it will go (since most of that will fall out anyway) instead of flat to my head, and not to worry about it being sleek.

And EVERY DAMN TIME, THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT THEY DO ANYWAY. It's not like I'm not clear about what I want! WHY IS IT SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND.

In Liverpool they always do my hair right but I don't live there any more TT-TT Only two hairdressers down here have actually done what I've asked them to. The cuts are always fine but I always, ALWAYS end up going home, re-wetting it and drying it again myself. NOT REALLY THE POINT.

Stuck at work with no patients waiting on a 15.45 appointment that isn't going to show up but cannot be got hold of by hook, crook or frustration. By the time I get to leave I will have wasted my potential snow day and driving is going to be a pig and a half :(

Just want to go home and watch j-drama TT-TT ETA: THE LADY SHOWED UP - AT HER APPOINTMENT TIME - AND ASKED TO RESCHEDULE. I HAD WAITED ALL DAY FOR HER TO COME. THEN MY FUCKHEAD COWORKER CALLED OUR BOSS ABOUT SOMETHING AND SHE SAID WE HAD TO STAY ALL AFTERNOON DESPITE EVERYONE ELSE GETTING TO GO HOME. EASY FOR HER TO SAY, BEING AT HOME. I AM ORDERING SOME FUCKING PIZZA TONIGHT GODDAMMIT

Thank you to everyone who replied to my post last week, and sorry it took so long for me to respond. It was a really horrible day in the long, ongoing saga that is my work situation - too long to go into in detail here and now, though I think many of you know about it already. We'll have to see what happens, as ever, but things are not as bad this week. I'm feeling better, anyway.

Though today I found out at the gym that I have lost a stone and a half since this January, and let's just say my gym visits haven't exactly been religious, so I know where that's all gone. Stress as a slimming aid?


On a happier note, I've started writing again! Or at least, I've written about 350 words two days in a row now, which is better than the nada it's been up until now! In celebration of this, a wordcounter and a rec for you all! I'm sorry I haven't been doing the recs up until now, btw, but things at work... well. You know.



This Mortal Armour

My old word counter from Zokutou seems to be all gone - poop! I loved that wordcounter! - but this is an acceptable substitute :) A lot of this is from previous work, though, so only the last six hundred or so words are fresh.


And the rec:

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What if Bella realised the power she has over Edward, and used it? This vision of Twilight, even if you hate the original, is mouth-wateringly dark, with Bella portrayed as a sociopath who knows exactly how best to use a vampire who is utterly devoted to her. Turns the original on its head without changing the premise, a task that sounds much easier than it is. Absolutely perfect.


The peaceable kingdom By orange_crushed. Summary: "Say it," he tells her. He is so goddamn arrogant. He orders her words to come out in front of him like he'd order a coffee. If, you know. He drank. "Say it."


Tags: twilight, edward/bella, het, fic, au, dark, a:orange-crushed

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I've reached that point in the creative planning process where I've hit a wall and suddenly start questioning whether or not it's a good idea overall, if it's original, if anyone will want to read it, if I just totally suck... etc, etc. I'm having difficulty with the external conflict, you see - which is almost always my problem.

I know the interpersonal conflict and the relationships between the two main characters, I know the world and have a lot of worldbuilding done already, but deciding on a decent conflict, something they will have a personal stake in enough for the reader to give a damn! That always gets me.

ARGH. I'm really excited about this novel. But I can't start writing until I know roughly where I'm going, and that means I have to decide on this conflict.

Pseudo-marriage of convenience trope wedded to bonding and unwanted relations with a person you don't know? Check! Awesome dragonbird plus hot rider? Check! Semi-steampunk dress-sense? Check! Girl with a sword? Check! External conflict?... not so much.

ionaonie, this is all your fault for not being around when I need to dump on someone so I can talk my way out of corners.

Sure, it would be nice if Mr Bates didn't turn up to his clinic two hours late and make all his patients wait. But he's just one asshole consultant. Most of us work damn hard, and for relatively small pay (it starts off good but doesn't go up much) to make other people's lives better.

I love my job. I really, really love my job. I love helping people and telling people their kids are fine and not to worry. I love working with patients even when there's nothing I can do for them, even though I have to tell them that, because people still sent them to me to see if we could help them - not cutting them out of the system, not ignoring them because they're 'too disabled'. I work with five-month-olds and five-year-olds and fifty-year-olds and eighty-five-year-olds. I work with glaucoma and squints and amblyopia and cataracts, and idiots and wonderful people and people who don't speak English well enough to tell the difference between 'keep patching' and 'stop patching'.

I get into work first thing in the morning and I don't leave until we've seen everybody and all the paperwork is done and we're ready for everyone else to come in the next morning and start all over again. I work my ass off when we're running late - and it's never our fault, it's always because a patient was late or we've been asked to see an extra person because they really need our help - and I sit around waiting for patients who never bother turning up for their appointments.

And even with all of this - I want always to be doing more for people, to be using best practice, to argue for better facilities and tests and to run more clinics and help people more. And you know what? I can do that, if I work hard enough for it. Because that's what the NHS is. We do it out of love, and anybody who wants to slag us off can go pay for their own healthcare somewhere where the doctors give them extra appointments and extra drugs that they don't need because they get paid more that way, and ask for their insurance details before they'll set a broken leg or take five seconds to check their kid for a squint.

God, I hate myself sometimes. Not as in 'self-loathing', but just sitting here and staring at the blinking cursor on Word, trying to think of what comes next, I have absolutely no idea what the hell I'm doing, and all I can think is that I hate my bloody brain for ditching me like this.

I probably need to sit down and have a good think about it, or brainstorm it with somebody to play soundingboard. Something is going to have to give, because I am finishing this goddamn book if it kills me.

ARRRRGH!

Word count update:

95,042 / 120,000 (79.2%)

Total expected wordcount has increased because I have no idea when this mother is going to goddamn end already. Hopefully I won't have to edit it down too much when I'm done so that somebody will publish it *cries a little*

You may not have noticed, but I am a very competitive person.

"The hell you say!" ...you say. (Ha ha, no, really, I know that you know. Do you know that I know that you know that I know? Well, you do now.)

Myv wanted to move back into the flat she lived in next year - it has better views, is in a quiet block, etc. I didn't - don't - really care, because all that means is that I will have to move all my stuff again, but, whatever.

Of course, as soon as I found out other people were after the same flat, we were going to win, goddammit, come hell or high water! I got really fired up and adrenaline-shaky (we got it, too.)

And don't even get me started on eBay. I get an adrenaline hit just out of fighting people out of the thing we both want at the last second. For instance, just won a lovely dress :D

It really is silly, but I suppose it's the small pleasures that make life worth living, hmm?

But...

Today I printed out my manuscript so far. Size 11 font, 1 1/2 line spaced, right and left justified, came to 167 pages. And I started to read it, thinking, 'let's see where this is at, get motivated again.'

But... I can't help noticing everything that's wrong with it. I'm sure it improves as I wrote it, getting into practice and improving and things, but I can't feel anything for it. The emotions I should be feeling just aren't there. And it makes me worry whether or not it's actually good or not. People tell me it is, but how can I tell when I'm so blank about it?

Argh! This is just what I was talking about yesterday. It makes me so frustrated!

I was planning on doing some writing on this long, lovely free afternoon, but first time got away from me and now I'm not in the mood at all - I feel much too hasty, like I'm in a rush with nothing to do.

On the other hand, I have been having a lot of planning thoughts, especially on the train back to Liverpool yesterday, and so I actually have rough plans for each of the other three books in the quartet, assuming I ever finish this one.

Which, with my mind acting up like this, is getting frustratingly worrying! I just read back the last page or so, and I feel like it's too much of a rushed pace, too much dialogue, but when I'm like this I read back my own stuff like that anyway, so who knows?

Argh! Frustration!

As it turns out, spending an hour by myself with music on so loud that I could pretend nobody else in the world existed and lopping off heads in this Headless Horseman game made me feel better, so I actually had a great time at the concert :)

I went with my friend Sam to see KT Tunstall at the Guild of Students, and as always KT was a fantastic performer - full of energy, and a great live singer. It was monstrously hot and we had to stand up the whole time and afterwards I could barely walk, but it was fun, especially after Sam and me swapped places and then we could both see - me over the head of the middle-aged lady bopping from side to side so that Sam couldn't see around her, and her through a gap I hadn't been able to use, because previously I had been staring either through the double of the balding man in front of me's head or directly at the back of his head, depending on his irritating talent for moving directly into my line of sight in any given minute. Belting out 'Black Horse and the Cherry Tree' at full volume with crashing guitars more than made up for this.

Yesterday morning I went to play with Ben, too, the autistic boy I'm volunteering with, and it went really well. Not only did I not get lost on the buses this time, but we had an instant rapport again - which apparently never happens - and I played with him for a solid half hour alone before he decided we were leaving his playroom, which also never happens. (Sarah, Ben's Mum, told me that some of her volunteers have taken six months to get him in there for an hour. She wants me to drop out of uni and become his nanny :D) I love that kid. And I really, hugely enjoy going over there, because he's fun to play with but also his Mum is lovely and I really like her. Two hours a week at least is going to fly by.

On top of all that, I was barely at home yesterday, but I still managed to churn out a good 600 words more on my novel, which pleases me, though I then woke up this morning unable to breathe through my nose and am still in my pyjamas and dressing gown, lounging around reading my writing book, which I'm really glad I bought because it's ace. Not so much a 'make up characters like this' as a 'writing is pretty much like this' kind of book, with helpful hints about publication and such. It made me laugh out loud a lot, until Myv threw me out of her room, and I was highly amused to see that she recommends copying your novel several times and carrying it on a data stick in your purse in case your house burns down, which is exactly what I do! (Plus I have a copy in my room in case my handbag is stolen, plus a copy with my Dad in the fireproof safe, plus Susan always has a copy, plus I upload anything new to Google Documents in case every computer I know goes down. This is not just paranoia, folks, it's psychosis, but at least I'll never lose my work!)

AS WELL AS ALL THAT, the poster I designed for the play I'm stage managing (Midsummer Night's Dream) has been approved by the director and I'm doing the touch-ups today. I'm really pleased with it, you can see the current version here.

This is a very long post for me. I'd probably better go have a lie down :D

ETA: Jesus Fuck. Sam just came in and told me that Marc and Myv are breaking up - he's breaking up with her because he can't do the long distance thing any more. I don't know what to do about this. There's nothing much I can do, but... she's going home for a few days. Not surprising, as they've been going out for three years. Bugger. This sucks. Poor Myv.