Hassles and...writing.

There was an interesting dream for a change, or at least for as far as I could remember it today.

I was underwater–for a long time to boot–and I could actually breathe there, which should have tipped me off that I was dreaming, it but didn’t.
It was a rather pleasant experience, I’ll admit, floating in colorful water scenes with tropical fish, corals twining beautifully, jellyfish shimmering like jewels, and whatnot. Gorgeous! It was nicely warm too, which is always a plus.
At one point while blithely swimming around, I came upon a cave of sorts and strangely enough it looked inhabited. I swam inside, looking around with interest, oddly enough seeing things as clearly as I would above water–another tip off that didn’t register, apparently.
And then I saw him…friggin’ Mel Gibson. He looked like a cross between his William Wallace part and Mad Max, which appears to be a bit of a contradiction to me, thinking about it, but it made perfect sense in the dream.
He was dying, the poor guy, lying there in the corner of the cave, his hand cradling a rather bad gut wound that was coloring the water around him red. He was trying to say something when I approached him, but I couldn’t hear him. Neither of us was really concerned, somehow I knew that we both knew that in order for him to go to the surface, which was something he wanted, he had to die down there.
Don’t ask me why. I never claimed that dreams make sense, and this one certainly didn’t.

But anyways…

I’m feeling all right when the alarm goes off and I rise from the bed to let the dogs out. They’ve let me sleep in relative peace for a change–I woke up only a few times this night, and that was merely to snarl a “shut up” before promptly falling back to sleep.

The weather is still horrid by the time I get up, thick clouds surrounding us on all side, and a misty rain coming down in a steady drizzle.
I’m out of clothes again, the laundry just won’t dry with this weather, so I dig through my storage of old clothes. I am delighted to find my (once) favorite jeans, hidden underneath a pile of bags in the corner of the “treasure chest”.

I stare at the garment measuringly, knowing full well that when I tried it on the last time, more than nine months ago I couldn’t fit into the denim if my life depended on it. Since I have no particular desire to repeat that debacle, I hesitate for quite a bit until I shrug and try it out anyway.
They fit, and I even manage to close all the buttons without having to suck in my breath. It’s nothing short of a miracle and I’m pretty thrilled when I head on down to the house.

I show the nice fit to big brother, of course, and get a faint, hardly interested smile with a vague, “Uh-huh. That’s nice” while he’s bent over his computer.
Ah well, no one to share the good news with then, I guess, except for the unfortunate readers of this Blog. Hah.

I have breakfast…no laundry since it won’t dry anyway…and though it makes me nauseous, I do manage to keep it down when I set my computer up and start on today’s tasks.

I do some editing on the vampire story and then proceed to describe the “love scene” which started right there on page one, giving the fun total of four pages filled with…ehm…you-know-what.

Seriously, I could do without this particular scene, but I do admit that I write an inventive and…ehm…detailed description of the ongoings. It actually has me chuckling nearing the end of the scene, and big brother is shaking his head since he knows full well what I’m writing and snatches the computer away from me as soon as I declare that I’m done.

It is tricky to write short romance stories. You have to create an interesting plot, cute characters, intense and detailed love scenes, preferably a bit of action on the side and some dialogue all fitting in a measly 15.000 words. No easy task, I tell you, but I’ve managed it twice now, so I should be getting a hang of it.

Across the table big brother is working on editing one of my long length novels, declaring that it is actually pretty good, especially since I haven’t gotten around to editing it myself during the course of the years that passed since I wrote it.

Gawd, just thinking back on it, I remember starting to write it in 2000, finishing it about two years later and not having looked at it since 2004. Though the broad strokes are still in my mind, I’m actually pretty surprised at how good it really is after reading through approximately twelve pages throughout the day.

The story is very different from my others: Rather sweet family life is the main theme: A single mother of four falling for the handsome neighbor with the rebellious teen sister making his life hell, before she steps in.
It IS sweet, and it makes me wonder what readers would think upon going through the story, when they’re used to stories that are action packed from me.

My session is interrupted by the sound of little brother being ill upstairs, and I inquire what’s up. Little sister informs me that brother woke up with a banging migraine that made him physically ill. I spent about half an hour helping out in getting him some relief in the form of a calming tea and other remedies that worked for me during my two-year headache, until little brother finally orders us to stop fussing and leave him the heck alone.

Resigning in his wishes, I return to the computer and resume reading the old script.
However much I’d like to continue with the reading/editing session, mom’s appointment at the doc’s office is drawing near, so it is time for me to get changed into something a little more respectable and head on up to the car.

The appointment goes fast, with the man just asking a few basic questions before drawing his conclusions. I doubt it will have any positive effects in the end, but it won’t hurt to try. Half an hour later we’re back on our way home with a prescription for depression filled out.

Once returning to the house, with Knight II literally wrapping his paws around me in welcome, I toss a frozen pizza in the grill and wait to have dinner. The doctor’s visit has made me depressed, and not at all in the mood to do anything constructive, so I lounge around uselessly for a while until after dinner I decide to do some more cleaning and repairs on one of the living room cabinets.

Next big brother and I do some more edits on the family novel and then shut down for the evening before applying aluminum strips to the counter. They look good, and with the big load of silicone behind them they’re bound to keep water from seeping anywhere it’s not supposed to go.

We have a snack of small grilled cheese sandwiches, and though I’m hungry the snack doesn’t fall well at all, making me realize that I won’t be able to keep it in well before my stomach starts to twist and turn in alarm.

I’m feeling pretty edgy by the time I head on up the mountain to retire for the night.
I barely make it into my cabin to the bathroom when my body upchucks the contents of my stomach, and leaves me leaning over the porcelain bowl teary-eyed from the exertion. The nausea is gone, however, so that’s one good thing at least.
Just feeding the dogs and writing today’s Blog are left, and with a little luck I’ll be able to turn in early.