So remember last week, when I said DH should be home in two weeks? Well, that's what he said. But he has a weird way of looking at time, because when I sat down yesterday and looked at the calendar, I realized it was still two more weeks before he got home.
That was a mite depressing.
And then, because he sees the light at the end of the tunnel, he's evidently trying to save money by not calling me. (It's $1 a minute. So, I can kinda see his point.)
So I haven't talked to him in three days. That doesn't work so well for me.
To make matters worse, I am SO stalled on my current WIP. It's like, I have one good writing day, where I put out 8,000 words, but then my brain won't STOP.
So the next day, I'm trying to write on two hours of sleep and coffee. That doesn't exactly work well.
I wish coffee didn't make me sick. I could get so much done.
I'm whining. It's one of those weeks. I went to the grocery store, and in a fit of wanting to save money, I bought cheap food. $60 for two weeks of food. I was so proud of myself. Problem is, saving $100 on food doesn't help when eating pasta makes you so tired you can't even get out of bed.
Well, this is silly.
Since I have nothing good to give you today, I'll send you here. It's been awhile since I last listened to U2. I miss 'em. When I first heard Sunday, Bloody Sunday, I thought it was called, "Someday, bloody someday."
Funnily enough, that's kind of how I feel at the moment. Someday I'll get this WIP finished. Someday DH'll come home. Someday I'll get spy novel finished.
Someday, bloody someday.