Have I ever mentioned how much I loathe Blogger word verification? I have to frickin' type it ten times to post a comment, and I'm a fair typer, being as it's one of the tools of the trade, as it were. Over at Crapometer we have no word ver, and I've rarely seen spam. I hardly think Electra is policing comments that closely. I really loathe word ver combined with owner approval. I like my instant gratification, people. My own voice is the most important one I read and hear all day, so gimme gimme. Now.
My computer is back in the shop. Hard drive problems. I'm working on critiquing a novel, and I hate to think if I'd lost the work I did yesterday. Fortunately, I emailed it to him, so it now lives in the ethernet. However, I'm stuck with only one short story and my oldest novel to work on. The screen play is on the big machine (backed up, fortunately) and so is everything else. I can't submit HINTERLAND. I can't even work on revisions for it. No EXILED. No "Balesat's Flames. " We can't even pay fucking bills. Not happy. I think I'll start banging out a short story. It'll probably suck, but at least it's something.
Between the most recent rejection (in which they missed the point entirely, not only of my story but a critter's story, all on the same day), tiredness, not working out, and a distinct lack of caffeine, I'm rather pissy. I told the husband this morning, "Uh, yeah, you don't want to cross me in the next few days." And that goes for all you people, too.
Do you have one belonging that most defines you? Mine's an old spatula from likely the 30s or 40s, slotted metal and a wood handle, bought from an estate sale at least ten years ago. It's a brilliant, flexible little thing that just feels good in my hand. I'm going to be buried with it. No one would appreciate it the way I do. What's yours? No, scratch that. What's your protag's?