A year or so ago, my mother bought a new TV for the living room, so we went from ~40" to ~55" and the TV stand didn't fit any more. (Because, go figure, the new one had a huge base compared to the old one, but you never get to find this out until it arrives.)
The old base is exactly the same as the one I use for my monitor in here.
So since the old base has been 1) propped against the side of my desk in here (and hence spat all over by my mother's parrot) and then 2) put under the kitchen bench where it won't get spat on...
I've stacked it on top of my old one. It's only taken me a year to do this. It feels kinda weird, the monitor's so high now, but at the same time I now have somewhere to put my tablet and keyboard when I don't need them, as the space under the old one got taken up by my PS4 and some fountain pen inks.
I suddenly have space on my desk again.
...This won't last.
...Get two different people to read your writing.
I sent Gabrys off to someone to read, I dunno, six months ago? So they could kinda beta-read it because I wanted to edit it and bind it.
It took 'em about two weeks to read it (it's ~33k words) and then they didn't really like it anyway, and I'd got enough on my plate at the time that it was kinda the icing on it all. I just stuffed it in the metaphorical drawer (i.e. my writing folder on my desktop, which I don't often bother looking in anyway) and continued to fail to write anything, on that or anything else.
A month ago I dragged the file out again, made notes about what happens in each chapter, smashed some chapters together, realised I still hated it and hid it. Then, because someone else I knew had sorta wanted to read something, I sent it to them and they said they'd offer notes on it. So I figure, that'll be another two weeks if not more, but at least they won't want to read anything else afterwards.
They messaged me back that night to say they'd finished it and enjoyed it. They also said they'd reread it and send me notes and didn't, but you can't blame anyone for only just surviving one readthrough of my shit, hah. In the end the only thing they really said was they wanted more of one certain character in it, but other than that they'd enjoyed it.
I'm glad they enjoyed it, but I'm still glad I quit doing this shit for publication.
I've started watching Twitch. There's even a whole bunch of writers on there who stream their writing. I've just turned someone off because he was more interesting in calling his viewers cunts than editing, which is always fun! (Made my day-job senses twitch.)
Be cool to see more writers on there though. Preferably ones with better tastes in music too.
Probably not me though. That would involve, you know, actual writing.
Things are getting a bit... weird again.
No cheese throwing, not even wandering jiggers (they like to stroll across the work surface sometimes, but only sometimes) but just ... weird things.
I found The Da Vinci Code on the floor yesterday. Neither of us heard it fall, which is odd because it came off the top shelf of the bookcase behind the boxed models of Shiki and Akira, which is level with the top of the door, so for a fairly decent-sized book to fall at least six and a half feet soundlessly is ... strange.
The genuinely weird thing is I came downstairs this morning to find page one of a Tesco order sheet on the floor and page two a short distance away; they're stapled together and I like to keep them that way, not to mention it wasn't actually recent ... and they're all wedged, on top of two small hampers and a fly net I've not yet hung, held in place by the top of the bookcase shelf, and there's a doghair roller on top of them. Again, this wasn't a recent one either, it's from maybe halfway through the stack.
I also found the heat tool I bought to try foiling text onto bookcloth. Now I'm a fucking coward, so I bought it and haven't opened it in case it, I dunno, leaps out the box and eats my face or something. (See also: 3D pen and airbrush.) Bearing in mind, not opened. Today it's leaning forward against my huge glass cutting board (standing upright against a shelf) with the box lid opened.
I didn't do this.
So we have three options.
The only other thing is that maybe I've taken up sleep walking again. But that's a little odd too... I've done it before, but only when I'm utterly hammered (which I haven't been in a while), and the other times have been night terrors so I tend to notice because I usually wake up while running across the room. And the reason why it's particularly odd, aside from that, is that I now sleep with an eye mask (because it beats waking up at 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7am, which has been my sleep schedule for at least the last month) so I've either taken it off, strolled downstairs, fiddled around with pointless shit before going back to bed and putting it back on again ... or I've done it without removing it. In which case, how am I not dead? I know I can maneuver sleepily through the landing when it's full of things while we were repairing, but that didn't involve stairs. (I also kept walking into the table once we'd done. While I was fully awake.)
So I'm going for option 3. Because I still can't find that fucking moth.
Asexual, aromantic, and transmasc non-binary. No, I have no idea how I ended up writing romance either.