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YESTERDAY-
So, went to bed about 8:30 AM, after book-finishing all-nighter, woke up about 11:30.. Feeling semi drunk or that irritating-stoned rather than relaxing stoned, due to only 3 hours sleep in 48 hours, and people in town and supermarket (which had neither £4 keyboard nor coffee machine - there’s a bit missing from mine) being moronic zombies…. Which means I’m not up to cooking stuff for tomorrow’s Shire day, but will hopefully be up for shooting longbow and poking people with swords. And I feel some model-building and Tumblr giffing coming on.
TODAY-
Well, the “shoot longbow and poke people with swords” plan didn’t go so well - having tossed and turned all night (can’t get my right arm joints comfy) and rushed out without breakfast, I only hit the target with two arrows out of 18 (and I think Yannick Normandy
will confirm I’ve never shot *that* badly) and keeled over. (certain people laughing behind me didn’t help, even though they probably weren’t laughing at me) So I got sent home to go back to bed, which, unusually for me, I did. (at least I woke in time to catch the Gand Prix only missed the first four laps)
So, having embarrassed myself this way, I can olnly conclude that either a) the spring and summer of altenating injury and illness has left me more broken than I thought, or b) I just can’t do the long strings of 48 hour shifts while skipping proper meals (the last bit of book was fuelled by dy conflakes and last year’s chocolate Xmas tree decorations that i found at the back of the cupboard) the way I could five or ten years ago…
Apparently I need an actual rest to be fit to have a holiday break… (Raglan week should have been it, but of course was the fighting off anaphylactic shock week)
Dammit, I want to shhot, and fence, and build models, and read books, and play my new guitar, and hang out with people who are all hundreds - at least - of miles away… But I also don’t quite know how to not work, cos my urge is to start typing on the next book…
So, went to bed about 8:30 AM, after book-finishing all-nighter, woke up about 11:30.. Feeling semi drunk or that irritating-stoned rather than relaxing stoned, due to only 3 hours sleep in 48 hours, and people in town and supermarket (which had neither £4 keyboard nor coffee machine - there’s a bit missing from mine) being moronic zombies…. Which means I’m not up to cooking stuff for tomorrow’s Shire day, but will hopefully be up for shooting longbow and poking people with swords. And I feel some model-building and Tumblr giffing coming on.
TODAY-
Well, the “shoot longbow and poke people with swords” plan didn’t go so well - having tossed and turned all night (can’t get my right arm joints comfy) and rushed out without breakfast, I only hit the target with two arrows out of 18 (and I think Yannick Normandy
will confirm I’ve never shot *that* badly) and keeled over. (certain people laughing behind me didn’t help, even though they probably weren’t laughing at me) So I got sent home to go back to bed, which, unusually for me, I did. (at least I woke in time to catch the Gand Prix only missed the first four laps)
So, having embarrassed myself this way, I can olnly conclude that either a) the spring and summer of altenating injury and illness has left me more broken than I thought, or b) I just can’t do the long strings of 48 hour shifts while skipping proper meals (the last bit of book was fuelled by dy conflakes and last year’s chocolate Xmas tree decorations that i found at the back of the cupboard) the way I could five or ten years ago…
Apparently I need an actual rest to be fit to have a holiday break… (Raglan week should have been it, but of course was the fighting off anaphylactic shock week)
Dammit, I want to shhot, and fence, and build models, and read books, and play my new guitar, and hang out with people who are all hundreds - at least - of miles away… But I also don’t quite know how to not work, cos my urge is to start typing on the next book…
