Tuesday. I get up and finish the first draft of my new story. It’s come in at flash fiction length, just a whisper over 1,000 words, which is a new realm for me. I’m pretty excited about this, and pleased with how the story is shaping up.

At work we have to tolerate Christmas In July (for which I have made banana bread). It turns out to be relatively pleasant, and I enjoy a couple of platefuls of damn decent food. I’m also impressed that the winner in the ‘best dressed’ category has shown up with a jumper stating “Now I have a machine gun, ho ho ho”. Brilliant.

After all that I spend the afternoon feeling like I need a Christmas Day nap. I get home very tired, and have one of those evenings where any and all noise unreasonably stresses me out. It is, of course, one of the those evenings in which the Kinderbeast talks at me incessantly, and the Elderbeast unleashes any random noise that escapes his brain cavity. It doesn’t help that both the rates and my water bill choose today to arrive on my doorstep as well.

I figure I’m probably coming down with something and retreat to bed at the earliest opportunity for more Locke & Key.