(no subject)

Today is a day of little frets. Things that can be made to go right and do go right but take a moment's thinking and a bit of work. A moment's thinking and a bit of work isn't such a hardship. Except that today is hot and I've managed to develop one of those moderate pain days and, all in all, there's no escape from my body, from the heat, or from those little frets.

What I want to do is put the frets on hold and finish what I started yesterday. I got to the stage with my novel where everything is making sense. Even dramatic climaxes suddenly flow from the characters rather than being nasty superimpositions. Something inside me is jumping up and down saying "I know! I know why she does that! I know why he is here! I know why they look like cats when the light slants!" It's making me exhausted, that jumping up and down, but I can't do a thing about it. Not just yet.

Everything else is time-sensitive today. One thing at a time. One moment at a time. Finish one fret before the next email comes in, bearing another. The emails are slowly growing, but in an hour or so they will slow down and I can diminish them. It's like diminishing the demon Shabriri - it uses the same technique.

Altogether, it reminds me of the public service, except that I don't get paid (though later in the year some of it will turn into money, with luck) and I don't get to knock off at 4.51.

At least with this heat I shall be unable to sleep until late. No-one is going to email frets at unholy hours. I can write fiction from midnight, perhaps. Banish all my demons at the perfect hour.

(no subject)

The frets are still happening (and the aches are resolving into a migraine), but I have a gorgeous parcel of bookmarks and Aussie spices to remind me that frets pass, and that, when they're gone, friends remain. Thank you kesalemma!