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Too Quiet
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Monday was a good day. Some writing money came in, enough to pay my quarterly taxes in September and still give me a couple hundred to spend on books and booze (the sacred duo) at Worldcon. That's a load off. I (probably) only have a couple more months of brutal financial penury before I get the first payment for my Marla novels, and life will become much easier after that. I won't be driving a Bentley or using hundred dollar bills for kleenex, but the pressure will ease. It'll be weird not running my bank account down to a double-digit balance every month... is that what being a grown-up is like?

Yesterday evening I helped our landlord clean out a giant disgusing hair clog from the pipes. (Turns out one of the other tenants doesn't have a hair catch in the shower! Gah!) We had to crawl under the house and run the drain snake up the pipe. It was dirty, awkward, and gross, but eventually we pulled out the clog. It looked like someone shoved a shitzu down the drain. But my landlord's a nice guy, so it was as pleasant as such a chore can be, and he gave me a nice bottle of wine as a thank you for helping out. I think I must be Tenant of the Week, what with helping clear the drain and putting together all the patio furniture.

Work is lonely. Everybody else in the office is off to Anaheim for the convention already. I'm here holding down the fort until Friday, when Heather and I fly down. It's awfully quiet here, but I'm getting stuff done, and it's mellow, at least. And I can play music as loud as I want.



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