Not so lazy Sunday

Weekends.  Remember weekends when you could sleep in, over eat and spend the day just lounging around reading books?  I sure do.

Today my mind was awake at 7am.  It said 'hey, I know it's a great day for a sleep in, and you won't get the chance again for another 5 days after this, but WAKE UP AND WRITE SOMETHING'.  :\ I'm not sure how  I feel about being ordered around, even by myself.

But I did it.  I woke up and prodded at some of my characters over cold Nandos for breakfast.

Then my partner and I went to have a look at some houses.

Then I posted the remainder of Birthday Presents on fictionpress, because, what the hell, let's not prolong it any longer.

Then I spent some time  agonizing over houses again because it's a big decision to buy a house...

And now I'm wrecked.  Completely physically and emotionally wrecked.

Where are the weekends full of beaches and sunshine?  Where

I hope that once this whole house-thing is over, I can settle back down into the normalcy of writing.  I might even pick up pace with editing Vert Glace (it rhymes, so it must be true).

But that's the story of my life, isn't it?  Once X is over, I'll be able to write.