Priorities,

Christmas and family make you think about your priorities a lot, and with the new year looming people begin to think about New Year's Resolutions. 

I might have mentioned previously that I am taking part in Veganuary. I want to do it to prove to myself that I can, and to explore the different culinary options available. Part of the idea is going to be seeing if I can actually drop the amount of meat products I have in my diet as a long term plan, though the success of that is to be measured later. 

My other "resolution" is to aim, as thoroughly as humanly possible, at getting my own place. 

I don't do overly well living with other humans because I like things to be a certain way. I like to know that when I am planning, on the train home, to cook a meal in a certain way that the knives for cutting things and the board I like are there and ready to be used. I also like to know that no one has eaten any of my ingredients, though that has happened before now. 

As much as I remember the solitude which can be created, because I felt that plenty of times in my little studio flat, it can also be wonderful to be able to come home after a really shitty day and be able to shut the door on everything else. You can shut the door and leave it outside along with anyone that you don't want to invite to cross your threshold. There is a stability and a sense of home which I don't really get from living in a shared house. Granted, I'm going to have to deal with that in case of a significant other, or kids or whatever, but still, it would be nice to have some time and space to myself and it is something I can't wait to create. 

The idea of a home is something really important to me and a lot of the things which are left at my mother's house are actually things I want for my future flat. I would probably have chosen the wall colours by now if I didn't know that it was going to be at least a few years before I was actually able to put paint on my own walls. 

Ah well, onwards and upwards...

Imagine Dragons...Oh Baby, I Do,

With NaNo having been over for more than a week I have finally had time to stand and catch my breath for a minute, though not too long as I'm currently back in Manchester marvelling at my mother's little fur baby and his insistence at "doing a Pudsey" and walking around on his hind legs when he can balance. It's very sweet when he is grabbing your hand between two fluffy paws and babbling at you like a toddler, though he does sound remarkably avian when he does it, which is mildly disconcerting to say the least. I kind of wonder if he is having a little identity crisis and wondering just what kind of animal he is. 

Somehow, it is really strange to try and imagine my mum with a dog, probably because I was pleading for one for so long and it was never practical, so we didn't get one, but then things changed and he's here. Somehow, it feels strange not to be able to imagine my mother with a dog, because although I don't write about dragons as pets and other such wonders as large fire breathing reptiles, I do write about pets like rabbits and goats, and the wonders that the experience of having a pet can bring. I love writing about little animals and their big personalities, so it does seem somewhat unnerving that my mother having a dog was somewhat on the limits of my imaginings, but here he is. He's sat in the small walkway of space between the dinning chair I am writing this from and where I have moved his dog bed to so that he could have a sleep if he wanted to since we did go on a pretty big walk just now and even had a little bit of a run. 

The poor sweet isn't used to me though - I merely arrived last night, caused a frantic amount of excitement, wouldn't let him sit on my knee on the chair by the window and kept hold of him whilst his mother put eye drops in. And I did it again today. I, therefore, am 'orrible. 

However I am also the person who produced a cloth newspaper which rustles and squeaks and has been thrown around the living room repeatedly for him to run after and chase (though bringing it back was slightly beyond capacity at first) and produced an antler chew to be destroyed at will. I'm choosing to believe that the little pupsicle is simply having a philosophical debate in his small fluffy head at the moment as to whether I am the devil or a magical blue Santa Clause. Yes - I do believe my dog understands both of those concepts... Okay, maybe not entirely, but he'll get there.

I hope he's leaning towards Santa, but really he hasn't seen anything yet, because Christmas is not yet truly here and when it is...Oh I am sure there will be excitement.

Christmas has come slightly early for me though, with the addition to the tool shed of a small netbook which I will be able to carry around and write on! This is not the make do and mend of having an iPad keyboard and the iPad which is five years old and was never really intended to live that long I suspect. It is not the slumming it of using Alphie, my lovely AlphaSmart, which is a wonderful piece of kit, but slightly irritating by the fact that it does not inform me of the word count which I have produced without plugging it into an actual computer - nor can I edit files on it. It's also not spending £400 on a laptop just to be able to have the luxury of a computer out of doors. It's small and light enough to carry, fast enough to run, but not all bells and whistles which is good because I'm very good at getting - ooooh, what did the dog do now!! - distracted.

Well, I'm going to go try and teach the dog to play fetch, so I'll catch you later. 

Woo!,

I've been pretty vocal about the fact that this week has been busy, and I was well prepared for the fact that my word count was going to kind of tank. (Well, not tank, but not quite get on the ladder really.) It's been difficult to see where I would be able to fit in writing and I really have been struggling with getting any sort of word count recorded. 

Thankfully (really?), well, thankfully yesterday I spent a scheduled few hours in hospital being poked and prodded and spun around at low speed with lights flashing. It was quite as *fun* as it sounds. The good thing is that between all the bits and pieces I was getting tested or questioned about, I was able to sit in the reception with my iPad and type furiously to try and catch up. I'm pretty blessed to have a myriad of writing tools and several of them are actually very portable which does help when I have spent 90% of the time I've actually been in my flat this week asleep. 

It's been annoying because I really want to work on the novel that I decided would be my project this time around. Thankfully I got well enough into it today that I've managed to not only get to the 10k I was aiming for this weekend, but actually caught up with how many words I was supposed to be on today - 11290 (and a little bit more). 

I'm going to try a little harder this week in order to get some words in on the train in the morning and on the way home, and maybe some at lunch time, too (though that might be pushing the boat out a little bit) because I really don't want to fall behind again. 

As much as it is Camp, and Camp is a lot more laid back in terms of deadlines and such than November, I don't want to fail when I've decided to go for a little bit less than the November target.

Ah well - we'll see how it goes. Catch you later. 

Well, That's an Unfamiliar Phrase,

Even though I am exhausted, and it's been a long week and my mouth has been in pain many times where I am missing a tooth, I can honestly say that I love my job. 

I started my new job on Monday morning and it is a very steep learning curve, believe me, but knowing a lot of different things for my job is not the problem. The "problem" which isn't really a problem per se is that I went into my last job with at least a small amount of knowledge, whereas with this I am learning pretty much from scratch. 

To say that I have not got as much writing done as I might have hoped would be the understatement of the century. I barely got a few thousand words done after the weekend, which means that I am struggling in terms of word count. It always seems that drafts of my novels end up as a sort of Frankenstein's manuscript with bits and pieces here and there that need to be sewn together. Part of the reason that they all need bringing together is because otherwise, I have no clue what my actual word count is; it's all guess work and underestimations. 

I don't miss my old job, but I do miss having the time to write whilst doing my job. Whilst in the call centre it was more than possible to be scribbling a few paragraphs or drawing up a little plan or something, but my new role is much more intense, and I don't have that luxury. Granted, having a few canine compadres wandering around more than makes up for it. Then again, I'm biased. I prefer most people's fur babies (dogs, cats, rabbits etc...) to actual babies because generally, they don't make quite so much noise - though I do love a terrier more than anything and they can be yappy little sods. 

So I have a million and one things to try and get done and nowhere near the amount of time I need to do they, but I'm just going to try and get stuck in. 

Catch you later

Testing Limits,

I woke up this morning after fifteen hours of sleep, which has become very unusual for me. 

I wasn't asleep for fifteen-ish hours because of depression or anything like that, which is obviously very nice, but because I have been really pushing myself to do things recently and something I really wanted to do was attend a lecture series at Birkbeck this week. Part of the reason that I wanted to do this was because I wanted to remind myself that I didn't enjoy university that much really, so I don't want to go back. It didn't work...

I'm not being naïve, I know that events like Law on Trial are there to sell Birkbeck as a school and to encourage people to study. They're a fantastic marketing campaign to prospective students, and I am now looking at courses more seriously than I was previously, though I'm thinking about the 2017 intake, because with the best will in the world, I know myself pretty well these days and I know that I will not be ready to do this in September of this year. I would rather prepare myself and be ready to do this than make an absolutely unholy mess of the whole bloody thing.

It's not just the possibility of going back to university though which has had me testing my limits. I've been trying to be a lot more socialable (because I sometimes suck at talking to people I do not know) and trying to spend more time doing constructive things than in my flat. 

This week I spent most of my evenings at Birkbeck. The lecturers were there to discuss the issues surrounding the upcoming referendum and I walked in there thinking I knew how I was voting and why. Right now, I feel like I have splinters in my bottom, because I am sat on the fence, leaning either way without really being sure how to swing. I don't get like this. I am very good at making deicisions about what I believe in and what I want to vote for, but right now, I am flumoxed. 

In all of this, as you can imagine, I have been getting less sleep than I am used to, and it has pushed my body to its edges. I have been very busy in the last few weeks generally anyway, so believe me, I needed my fiftteen hour catch up sleep. I was pretty exhausted by the end of it, but I did manage to finish writing the first draft of the first volume of The Single Girls' Collective, and for once I cannot wait to get to editing it, though that was on the backburner this week for obvious reasons. 

Before this post runs to a mile long, I'm going to wrap it up by saying watch this space. Catch you later.