Max is perched on the back of my chair, literally breathing down my neck. Every once in a while he slaps the side if my head with his tail--he knows exactly what he's doing and that it annoys me--and it feels like he's reading over my shoulder as I work. It's like, thwap, change that sentence. I don't like it. Thwap, fix that; Wick is funnier than that.
He spends a great deal of time lounging near my head if I'm working from the recliner in the living room. Since this is technically his work, I suppose that's a good thing, but I could really do without the tail slapping me and the frequent vocal reminders that I am not worthy and he's just letting me do this because he's nice.
But...we're (yes, we're) working on two projects at once, the third book in the Wick series and the volume that follows, which will not be a part of The Wick Chronicles because it's definitely not YA material. It's not erotica, either, but it falls on the side of good-thing-my-mother-won't-read-this. I'll give a copy to the Boy when it's done, but I won't want to know if he read it.
I've never written as out-of-sequence as I am this time. The third Wick book is about half done, and I stopped for a while to pound out notes for (working series title) Wick After Dark, and wound up with so many pages that the word count could have won NaNoWriMo again. For the freaking notes. Now that I've gotten that done, it's back to the third book.
The problem is that I tend to get a little absorbed when I'm this deep into something, and I'll be this deep until both books are finished...but I also need to get to the gym, go for bike rides, and do normal-people kinds of things, lest I become fused with the chair.
The Spouse Thingy also had a couple of weeks off coming up, and I should probably spend some time with him.
Life would be so much easier if sleep wasn't a requirement.
Sleeping is another issue. Still. Always. I envy those of you who are normal sleepers. Every once in a while I get a string of nights where I actually manage it for 8 straight hours, and I very much enjoy that. This sleeping for 3 and waking up for 3, and sleeping for 3 more is getting old.
Maybe I should take up drinking. My writing might be a lot wilder, and I might even sleep after.
I have Fireball in my freezer.
Maybe I'll try.
Maybe Max will get his damned tail out of my ear.