Isn't it rubbish that it's not a bank holiday this week? Got used to the extra day off stupidly quickly.
Have used the time, I suppose, to get ahead with Guin. Am now two (well, one and a bit) chapters ahead and might poooooossibly have finished writing the whole thing, first draft that it is, by the end of the month. Yay! There should be another 10 or so chapters which would take it up to about 30 in total. And it'll be bloody depressing. Then, on with 'But Maybe That's Just Me', which I'd like to get restarted before we leave Lincoln because it's really a book about my time here, silly as it may be.
In other news, I had strawberry cider today, hence the title, and instead of swigging it from the bottle in my usual loutish way, I had it in a glass in a rather nice pub in Lincoln. Felt a little bit like a proper person!
Nearer and nearer draws the time of moving which is exciting and bed-wettingly nerve-wracking. Going to start looking for jobs soon, kinda just wish I could quit my job now and get on with my writing in the hope of getting somewhere with that and never having to work a proper job again! *ahem* Dream on.
Work again tomorrow, so I'm going to go and be depressed about that now.