Right. Back again. I'll spare you all the details, mainly because I don't want to live through them a second time. Suffice to say things looked bleak for a while there. Not everything has fallen back into place just yet, but I don't think the light at the end of the tunnel is the oncoming train any more, so that's positive.
My writing time vanished out the window in all the panic, so I'm very much looking forward to getting words on paper again. All I've managed in the past week is scrawling one or two sentences on scraps of paper during spare minutes in my lunch break. There are a lot of scraps of paper, but a preliminary sort shows most of them have variations of the same sentence on them. Probably because I have a habit of writing down the last sentence I can remember as a starting point, but I obviously never got past the starting point most days. C'est la vie.
It puts me behind, of course, and I might have to start looking at allocating my writing time from a more financially responsible point of view. The novel I'm working on currently is uncontracted; perhaps it's time to put it aside in favour of one that has a more certain future. I shall ponder the issue. Tomorrow. Or maybe over the weekend.
In the meantime, I have spent a goodly portion of this evening attempting to understand the telephone provider system in Australia. I am baffled. Should it be this hard? Really?