“Just” desserts
Had to lie down three times today (when the body says, “Knock it off,” I’ve learned to listen), but I finally got through the galleys for the March book. Turns out I used “just” roughly five million times. I’m usually more aware of repetition (since it’s a huge pet peeve), but I was brain dead when I wrote this book, and clearly still brain dead when I read the line-edits, and somehow, I missed them. Allllll of them.
I see a really, really nice holiday gift in my editor’s assistant’s near future.
Faced a dilemma today, the same dilemma I face every time I’m under the weather (which fortunately isn’t very often). See, my hair is wavy enough that, if I don’t “do” it with the curling iron, I get all these little crinkles. Which would be fine if the crinkles didn’t peter out at the ends and look, well, like I didn’t do my hair. The thing is, though, the more of an effort I make to at least pretend I feel normal, the more normal I feel. Never been much into Death Warmed Over look, go figure. However, if I look fine, then everybody else assumes I am fine, and my fellow inmates have a hard enough time with the concept of Mom being sick without faking them out.
So I didn’t do my hair. Slap a little green makeup on me and I could do a mean Margaret Hamilton, but at least everybody left me alone.
Oh! Oh! On a much brighter note — has anyone else tried the Dove Minature ice creams? We (okay, I) got a box at Sam’s yesterday. There’s strawberry, chocolate and vanilla, wrapped in luscious chocolate, and they’re only 60 calories each. Yeah, yeah, eating just one (or two, or three) is a bit of a challenge, but hey. It’s better than scarfing down an entire Dove bar to the tune of 5000 calories or however much it is. I think I’m in love.
Can’t wait until I can actually taste them.
