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The amazing disappearing and reappearing girl…

Hello lj! I’ve missed you… I had to disappear for the weekend so that I could accomplish everything on my ‘To Do’ list (most of which was done, but a few things have yet to be crossed off… and now many new items have materialised on the list that I will have to face *some time*. Sigh.)
Is it a full moon today? I’m feeling out of sorts… (just Googled it: Nope. No full moon until Dec 13th.)
Planning a quiz night is a lot of work. It’s happening this Saturday, and we’re still assembling prizes and coming up with questions. Attendance looks good, but having said that there have also been a few cancellations, so we’ll see how it goes on the night. I’m feeling conflicted about the whole thing — everything we’ve done so far looks excellent (*pats herself on the back*) but at the same time I worry that it won’t be enough. It’s like throwing a birthday party in high school: you *hope* the cool kids will come, and that they won’t think it’s lame once they get there…
On top of these juvenile worries, I’ve realised that I must have been nuts when I agreed to help organise this event. My goal of finishing two draft thesis chapters before heading to Clarion has been entirely blown out of the water, and I’ll be doing the dance of joy if I can finish the "Nation" chapter before I go. I have also been suffering from the delusion that I will have a bit of a vacation in December before heading to Brissie — HA! I wish I knew where I got the stuff I’ve apparently been smoking lately. I will have a reading holiday post-Christmas (4 days of nothing but reading — nerd heaven!) but other than that it’s going to be a work-laden festive season for me.
I’m feeling increasingly grumpy that things like the quiz night, the thesis, the book reviews, and the other random crap are getting in the way of the things previously known as writing time. This is a gripe that most writers have, I know, since probably only 2% of the writing population get to indulge in their craft full-time. But still, the general lack of writing time I’ve had in the past week makes me go, GRRRRRRRRRR!
In fact, here is a chart that accurately reflects the degree and intensity of resentment I feel toward non-writing activities* at the moment:

 
Sometimes whinging *does* make you feel better. Now I can tackle that review book with far less vitriol than it warrants πŸ˜‰

*Yes, most of these things involve writing, which is cool, but they do not qualify as ‘writing time’ by any stretch of the imagination. And anyone who claims that writing their thesis is fun has probably been doing it for so long that they have (finally) gone insane, and the 3 review books I’ve got waiting for me are fascinating in the way that paint drying is fascinating. It’s MUCH more fun reviewing fiction!

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