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The day the weekend ate

I think I have finally gotten it through my head that

  1. I am too old to stay out until 3:30 am.
  2. I am also not equipped to drink Cosmopolitans, those pink demon-spawn cocktails from hell.
  3. Ignoring points 1 and 2 means that the weekend eats Sunday while I sleep. And sleep. And watch bad TV. And sleep more.

Things I didn’t get done this weekend, which I am now regretting:

  1. Decorate the house for Christmas
  2. Do the graphic design job for the Student Learning Centre
  3. Finish ‘No Ordinary Coward’ and continue working on the as-yet-unnnamed story
  4. Prepare my final notes for this week’s thesis work

So, basically, I am feeling pretty blah this morning. Not a good way to start off the hardcore thesis writing week I have planned for myself.

Oh, and got an email from Writers of the Future telling me that my entry for the 4th quarter was a no-go. Dang. I suspect that my stories aren’t space-shippey enough for them, but I’ll keep entering until I’m no longer qualified to do so (a win-win situation, if you ask me: either I can no longer enter because I’ve won it, or I can no longer enter because I’ve had too many top-level publications to do so. Either option would be A-OK as far as I’m concerned.)

OK. Gotta go sharpen my weapons: there’s an albatross that needs killin’…

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5 thoughts on “The day the weekend ate

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