I've postponed the flat inspection. If I do a room a day over the next week I should be fine.
Then I can ask permission to keep a hamster. Truth be told, I get a bit lonely here sometimes, so a little company would be nice. And in the long run a hamster would be less trouble than a random boyfriend, though I do also have my eye on a nice young man at work.
If I get a boy hamster I think I'll call him Kronk. That would be an awesome name for a hamster.
I found out how to get out of going back to work for a few more days.
Food poisoning, yay!
Oh. Wait. No, it's very much worse than work. And all my own fault as well.
On top of my regularly scheduled duties (quite a lot at this time of year), I have to write our guidebook by mid-January.
Bar the odd bit I've written here and there, that's a whole (small) book in a fortnight. My years of nanoing are finally paying off.
That's right, ladies and gents, for one day only Migratory herself will be appearing in Oxford! Starting with a cup of tea with some writers in Borders, she will then venture into the local retail emporiums in search of festive frippery before gracing an eatery with her presence (and that of a friend) in the early evening! Don't miss your chance to pass her in the street and say to yourself "Wasn't that the girl who posted about gibbon testicles?"
Which is to say, I'm going back to Oxford on Saturday. I'm quite looking forwards to it actually - it'll be nice to get away from here for a bit, and to see some familiar faces. :-)
Before that though, I have to get the flat ready for its first inspection. Which is why I'm procrastinating online.
It turns out then when you don't top up your mobile internet, it doesn't give you internet access. Also it turns out that when you're swamped at work and painfully tired, NaNoWriMo seems like a bit of a chore till your idea hits.
But it's hit and I'm rolling. I scrapped the first idea I was struggling with and went with the idea I was originally planning to write, and rejected because it was so stupid. I've decided I don't care about the stupid. Even when I try for something serious things like time travel and the undead creep in, so why fight it?
And so this year I'm writing about clones. My novel is called Dave Va Vinci, and narrated by Eddie Byron. I started it tonight and for the first time this year I'm enjoying NaNo.
So far, some variation on the word 'fuck' appears every 124 words.
I've been able to catch some of the current BBC adaptation of Emma, and I have to say it's excellent. Really well done, and Romola Garai makes a wonderful Emma. It's not my favourite Austen, but it's a great adaptation.
But what I really want to say is Johnny Lee Miller Knightly!
That's a potent bit of casting.
I've been working ~6 days a week for the zoo for the summer. Which is all well and groovy and somewhat part of the territory with this sort of position. But it gets kind of weird when on my day off, after doing all the normal errands and wandering, I settle down in the evening to play Zoo Tycoon.
I wonder if it's some sort of validation thing... when the game congratulates me for my zoo administration skills I assume this also applies to real life. Or possibly it's some weird zoo attachment that needs closer examination. I haven't yet recreated the zoo I work for in pixels, but I guess there's still time.
I wonder if soldiers play Call of Duty or lawyers play Phoenix Wright?
Anyway, I've now been offered a permanent position. 50% admin, 50% marketing, 100% pretty darn cool. I will at least be able to afford this flat I so rashly rushed into.
I find myself rather attracted to a man I know with a gold tooth.
I think that ratcheting sound was my standards lowering. Must be the approach of my 25th birthday.
Anyhow, in other news...
I have a flat! My first ever just-me flat. No family, no waste-of-space boyfriend, no charmingly erratic flatmates. It's all mine :-)
Now, of course, I have to find a way to afford those little essentials like a washing machine...