I can sit down and bash out a few pages for my story (I will get the latest manuscript out to you, I promise!) without a moment of hesitation, but I draw a blank whenever it comes to talking about me. The trouble therein is that one of the central characters of my story is based (very loosely) around me, as who’s head is supposed to easier to get into than your own?
Right, my arse it is.
I have all the scars and issues that comes with both an occasionally bad childhood, and previous emotionally fraught relationships. Should I use the character to attack those people I don’t like?
In my defence, we’re all sick with the flu. It hasn’t been conductive to bright thoughts, as we’re tired and cranky, and very much wanting to be well again. Mariah took Tuesday off work sick, I was sent home from work, and Caira had to go to the doctor yesterday evening. I pity the baby as she’s in a bad way, and doing anything right now hurts her. She’s not sleeping well, and spent last night trying to give Mariah a sound trashing as she kept crawling onto her face.
Christmas has come a little early for all of us. Caira’s grandparents came up from California at the start of the week and pretty much spoiled Caira rotten for the entire time that they were here. Some magnificent gifts were given, and the brat came away very happy.
Mariah bought me an electric scooter that promptly died on the first day I used it to go to work, stranding me at Las Vegas Boulevard. I was two hours late for work and had to spend another three that night pushing it home. We think we know what the problem with the scooter is, and how we might go about fixing it, but we need to find the time to go and buy replacement parts.