Brought home some work last night, because I didn't want to stay at the office to finish it. Sometimes, there's less stress if I can bring "busy work" (a/k/a paperwork) home where I can at least watch television and be distracted a little from the boringness of it all.
Unfortunately, the reason there was any work to bring home is the amount of work still waiting on my desk. Too many little fires to put out during the day, not enough time to get to the mountain of tasks looming ever higher.
So, not much writing getting done. No cutting and pasting the Dragon novel for the last two nights. That's okay, though, because I've still been writing: I've been dreaming and daydreaming a crucial scene, reworking events, choosing which character's POV will work best, and so on.
I've been getting requests from my 12-year-old reader at the Club; he wants to know if there's anything on the Emerson & Uncle Eban story. Weeeellll, yes and no. About three pages of scribbled material in the little spiral notebook, but not enough for an avid reader like him to become immersed in the story again.
So many stories, so much interruption.
2 comments:
Johnny Paycheck wrote a song about jobs like that once.
Weeelll, not gonna say that to the bosses!
On the other hand, I might, but in other terms.
I'm still on the hunt for other work, but the current job is taking too much energy and time right now, leaving little left over for other things.
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