I called into work. I’m feeling like I did when I went to the doctor a few years back and got the shocked reaction of “How are you walking? How are you working?!” because I had pneumonia (yay) and lately I’ve been getting the same feeling in one of my lungs. I figured it’d be a better idea (while coughing) to call in. I’m pretty sure I pissed off the newest manager and I don’t care.
So now I’ve got tea, cats (a rumbly, happy Snooch on my lap), Rhonda’s making me soup because she’s awesome, and I’m listening to things. During this, I thought it’d be a good idea to work on a story idea that I had and in my tiredness, I realized that the program I use (Open Office) has the ability to do footnotes (Footnotes!). Now that I’ve footnoted my notes to myself, I’ve got a correct wordcount and I’m at 1008 words. It’s not much in the grand scheme of things, but I’m happy with it.
I don’t expect to have anything novel worthy for a while. I’m happy with working on short stories and then working my way up. Because, hey, why not? And I know this is the first draft, so I’m not really stressed about it. I just don’t know if I should just go ahead and post up what I’ve got and be done with it, or just shelve it, look at it in a week or so, and realize I’m not fooling anyone.
I guess, if anything, I can try to convince Jamie to read what I’ve got thus far and go from there.