I tell you, I've been tired lately, and not a little bit down in the dumps. It's that damned birthday coming, I tell you. At least I don't lie about my age (though there was a time when I was certain that I was a year older than I actually was; what a relief it was to find out the truth!).
Anyway, I'm sitting in the local coffee shop, outlining some work, sipping an iced coffee, and trying to settle into ye olde writing mode. Some days it's easier said than done.
Oh, by the way. To those who might be interested, I've been to every game store in the county and I haven't seen a single copy of Children of the Horned Rat on the shelves. Amazon lists it for sale, with a 24 hour turn-around. I'm not sure what this means. Maybe someone can enlighten me?
In any case, it's Father's Day here in the States. My wife took me out for sushi last night to honor my second Father's Day, leaving our son at home with his uncle in the babysitting role. The sushi was good, and it was nice to have some time alone with my gal. Given that I've got other things on my mind, it's not always easy for me to enjoy the time we have together.
This morning, my son and I went to my mother's place, and I cooked breakfast for my stepdad. It turned out well enough, for your typical cholesterol-laden morning meal.
What was I saying about writing? Oh, yeah. I guess I'd better get to it. Chop, chop.