Muddle-headed Kay (mhw) wrote,
Muddle-headed Kay
mhw

This journal has been placed in memorial status. New entries cannot be posted to it.

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So actually

it's not curry with Bryan and Karen tonight, since Jus is home late and frazzled after one of those ISP days, and I really don't think it's fair for him to drive anywhere. Tomorrow night it is.

I've decided that I really should at least telephone my doctor about the 'funny left arm' I've had for nearly a month now. A month? you cry - how come you've not mentioned it before? Well, to be honest it's such a minor thing that I feel quite idiotic about mentioning it. Something's doing naughty things to the ulnar nerve in that arm, so I'm getting tingly-fuzzy numbness in my little and ring fingers and along that edge of my forearm. But if I'd knocked it, it should have worn off after a few days, and it hasn't. Time to get it looked at, I think.

Writing bubbles. Still unable to tune in Radio George, but I'm even feeling optimistic about that; there's no sense that he's not there, just that he's not talking loudly enough for me to hear him yet. I've been mulling over what's possibly going to happen in Draco's jaunt to Edinburgh this weekend, and halfway through a conversation he was having with Ossie he said something I never thought I'd hear Draco Malfoy say. Something I'd give teeth for Prof Newtbaker be able to hear. And he meant it.

Polishing continues. There's very little to be done, but sometimes... sometimes a sentence can do with a tweak.

Then I'll go and read for continuity, just to make sure that there's nothing I've written here that will fox up anyone else's carefully laid plans. I'd hate to do that. Then one more read through and I'll post. This weekend's going to be a beast with rushing around and organising stuff, so I'll probably write as much as possible of the events of Draco's weekend while I can, so I may be a bit quieter than in recent days to get as much time for it as possible.

It would be nice if my Muse were reliable. It seems either to be feast or famine; either my head's fizzing with ideas, often more than I can handle, or I sit thinking "What can I write? my head's gone empty!" I think that today's taught me a lesson about discipline: any writing is better than no writing, because you may always be fortunate and strike it lucky at some point in the process, and if you don't you've still got something you can use, even if it doesn't make you glow with achievement.

Supper. That would seem a good thing. Then polishing and reading for continuity.
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