This weekend is hugely crowded. We released the cover for Magic and Medicine and I’m trying to promote Season’s War series left, right and centre. The paying job is seriously messed up with me playing the hero, but despite my best efforts, things went to sh… more often than not. Mark, on the other hand, won the “boss handshake” and a mention in his work’s newsletter as the best engineer. Not including a raise or bonus money, so imagine how well it went with my leftist leaning man
So this weekend he is locked in the office as some kind of hermit, half naked because of the heat (office is on the sunny side of the house with a massive computer in it) surrounded by cans of coke because we are on a deadline and he still has 7k words to edit.
I’m downstairs dealing with the rest of the house, entertaining teenager and typesetting the book for beta readers and you know this moment when something crashes inside you and anxiety spikes?
Well, this happened to me and…whatever devil whispered into my ear, I drag all family down to clean the garage. No, don’t ask me why clean the garage. Maybe because it was full of useless and broken crap and a colony of spiders? It was a bit of exercise but now the garage is passable, I’m emotionally tamed and Mark is back brooding in the office, cursing the length of my chapters.