So where did all this snow come from? And why is it so cold out there? (These are questions I'm throwing out to the universe at large.)
The weekly writing update:
I've read all 155 stories entered in the Awesome Authors contest and have made my choices. after some deliberation. There will be a presentation ceremony in April, I believe, and I'll be announcing winners in my category so I also have to write up something for each story. I should have everything in order by the end of the weekend.
I'm also hard at work editing my adult mystery manuscript but have a bit of a ways to go. It's amazing how many little errors I'm finding because I thought I'd caught more of them than I had in my last edit. Writing is not for those who don't relish the challenge of combing through 90,000 words on a hunt for spelling and grammar errors. In some ways, it is tedious work, especially around the 15th time you've gone over the same text. You start mumbling to yourself.
Not sure I mentioned that I took up yoga last year during my Monday lunch hour at work. Now I know there are those who swear by it, but I'm quite sure I will not be booking a trip to India to contemplate my navel, documented centre of one's energy, anytime soon. I walked out of the class with another woman this week and here's how our conversation went:
Me - "Well, that was particularly gruelling."
Her (nodding) - "I look forward to coming when I'm sitting at my desk, but once here all I can think about is how much time is left . I keep checking the clock, hoping it's time to leave."
Me (thinking how I guiltily start checking my watch 20 minutes in) - "I hate that cobra thing. It kind of strains my neck."
Her - "Yeah, me too. My favourite part is where we get to lie on our mats and sleep for five minutes at the end."
Me (realizing I've found a yoga soul-mate) - "It's the main reason I keep coming."
Yoga is kind of like eating your vegetables.
Well, not much movement on Ted's bedroom painting project to report. Still no paint bought. He has, however, moved around some of his tools and the ladder. All hopeful signs.
Another week wrapped up for the books.
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