...attempting to write the end of my next Changeling Press novella, which doesn't even have a proper title yet and which is going to be about a million words too long at this rate.
...swearing at my inability to do the above.
...attempting to plan, at least in my head, what I'm going to take to Center Parcs with me next week. England. September. Could be shorts and sandals, could be winter coat and brolly.
...reading Jennifer Crusie's latest, Maybe This Time, and cursing her for making it unputdownable when I've got a damn book to write.
...wishing I'd actually stuck to my diet instead of adding just a few glasses of red wine to the other few glasses of red wine that were already not supposed to have been drunk.
...looking at sentences as malformed as the one above and weeping.
...taking a picture of this sign, which I swear to God is outside my local primary school.
...looking for cover art for said novella. That's not procrastinating, it's a valid and necessary part of the creative process.
...listening to The Coral's Dreaming Of You, which is also a valid and necessary part of the creative process because it, like, inspires the book and stuff.
...wondering if Dreaming Of You would be a good title for the book.
...wondering if it's time to go to the pub yet.