The copyedits slog on, and the further I wade in, the more notes I leave myself of the "yeah, come back and fix this, definitely" nature. This is the part of the process where I start to despair because I seem to be making more notes to self than I'm fixing. The mindset is entirely untrue and entirely transitory, of course. The only cure is to keep on keeping on, until the manuscript is finished. Such is (this) writer's life.
Today, just to prove that parking yourself in front of a computer for hours on end can be a dangerous and tricky affair, I discovered a tick biting me. A tick! This is because the cat, now he's all grown up and thinks he's smart enough, insists on venturing outside on a daily basis. Which would be fine, except he likes to visit the enormous snarl of obviously tick-infested lantana choking the gully behind the house.
I have also, of late, been experimenting with that most infamous of social network sites, facebook. Is it the most evil site ever created, or not? All these websites with "friends" networks, people who are allowed in and people who are not, irrelevant snippets of information about what your "friends" have recently been doing in terms of what applications they've added or what utterly illogical quizzes they've taken, trivialising social interaction.
Or maybe that's just me.
Don't mind me if I go a little silent over the next couple of days: it's my weekend, and I want to fix words while the dayjob is out of mind.