Second Round of Edits

Second round of edits have just arrived, and I have the extremely short deadline of Sunday night.

Plus I'm flat out at work from Thursday.

Yes. I am coping in my usual unflustered style.

HAH.

Try, head on desk muttering "It'll be alright, everything will be just fine..." over and over.

Just 2hrs until I can open a bottle of wine...

sigh.

Rootkits and Packet Sniffing

In my quest for writing a novel based on as much fact as I can, I have entered the world of rootkits and deep packet sniffing.

The IT department at work have generously been educating me.

Yes, like you, I was all, rootkits and packet sniffing? Surely you are only talking about obscure computer hacking terms? I was like that. I was. But then I giggled. Australian's are incapable of not giggling when the word root is mentioned, its a cultural thing. Giggling about the word rooting that is. Not the actual rooting - that's pretty much worldwide as far as I can tell. Anyway, I giggled, and then I blushed scarlet.

Yes. Scarlet.

Now I have lost what little dignity I had and in front of the grinning IT department. Apparently it gives one a sense of achievement to make a romance novelist blush.

Though, I should confess that its not hard to make me blush. I seem to have been hardwired to do it on command. During my school years on the bus I was TORTURED by snotty little boys (who might now be lawyers and barristers and financial advisers on telly, BUT I REMEMBER YOU WHEN YOU ONLY WASHED ONCE A WEEK IF THAT).

"Don't go red," they'd all chorus at me. I obligingly went red, mostly due to the attention I'd garnered.

Of course then I grew boobs.

Nobody noticed the colour of my face for years after that.

I'm still here!

Phew - just sent off the first round of edits for Secret Intentions. I apologise for not being here as much as usual, but brace yourselves for a blogging fiesta now! Oh I have so much to talk about - the weather has been wet and I've spent many frustrated days inside with my darling children, half the roof is missing due to the fascia under the gutters rotting through and collapsing, and as a result we are running a half-way house for homeless possums.

I am tired.

I am pissed off.

I am moving swiftly from being overwhelmed, to sickness, to exhaustion, to ennui and back to overwhelmed again.

Though, I must add, that at this moment I am clutching a glass of frangelico and lemon juice on the rocks, and have spent the evening filling myself with pizza and ice cream. The cat is climbing the curtains and life could be worse.

Yes, it continues much as it has for the last four years.

Wear a sportsbra...

Ladies & Gentlemen who read the blog of Cait Nicholas (I know you do BRIAN)... wear a sportsbra.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, a sportsbra would be it.

Yes.

I've taken up jogging.

Why?

Well, that's a good question.

The simplest answer (and probably the most accurate) is that the edits for Secret Intentions arrived last Monday. The house has never been tidier, Angela the cleaning angel won't have a thing to do tomorrow. A new and complex diet requiring many hours in the kitchen has been devised. And I've taken up jogging.

And now...
My knees hurt.
My shoulder hurts.
I can barely breathe.
AND I've done more damage to my boobs than an entire year of breastfeeding.

Sportsbra shopping with two small children tomorrow.

Yes. I think that will go very well. With no loss of dignity. None.