I almost crapped out on writing tonight. I went to the grocery store after work, then picked up Heather from BART. Once we got home I made dinner (not exactly a big production, just boca burgers & tater tots, but still), and we collapsed couchward, chatted, bitched about politics, petted the cats. I read Heather a few chapters from Joe Lansdale's Mucho Mojo -- it's a thing we're doing lately, me reading to her. It's a good thing. I like it. I think we should keep it up. Then we watched Angel (which managed to do some things I hadn't expected, which was nice, since in many ways they're treading extremely familiar ground), and a South Park re-run, and then I continued sitting on the couch and watching cartoons while Heather got ready for bed. Then it was 11:00, and I realized that, if I was going to spend an hour writing tonight, I should really get started.

I read what Mike and Greg had done on the crazy three-way collab, and had no idea where to go with the story from there. They'd tossed some seriously flaming hamsters at me. So I went to take a shower -- I do a lot of good thinking about stories in the shower -- and by the time I was toweling myself off, I had some ideas. I wound up writing 1800 words, which is about a third of the total length of the story at this point, so you might say I got a bit carried away. It's turning out to be a pretty strong (and deeply, deeply odd) story, I think. We'll see how it finishes up.

So, yeah. I'm feeling like I'm back on track. And next Wednesday is my first day off under the new work schedule. I'm looking very much forward to it.