Bibliophile Lass (bibliogirl) wrote,
Bibliophile Lass

It's been a frustrating few weeks, on any number of levels.

A lot of the frustration has been work-related, but is either (somewhat) commercially sensitive, or not really my issue to rant about, or way too tedious to want to bore the rest of the world with, so I won't bother going into it here. That's easing up a bit now, I hope.

Then there's the continuing Dear Gods, Where Are We Going To Put All This Crap? issue. We've been out a lot, or busy a lot, pretty much the whole time since we moved, and therefore we still have a good couple of hundred boxes left to unpack. This also means that we need to decide what further furniture to acquire. Once we've made that decision, then we need to actually buy the furniture. Either going to Ikea and hoping they have the right stuff in stock (in their defence, we went there yesterday and had a shopping list of about ten different items, and they were only short of one of them) or ordering it through other channels and then waiting weeks for it to turn up.

We've also managed to get all of the stuff out of the loft at the old place. This is a good thing. It's now sitting in our garage. This is not such a good thing. Much of it needs to be gone through and thrown out ... er, gone through and thinned out - and also repacked into sturdier boxes. I don't know quite what was going on when some of this stuff was packed but it isn't packed very well, and now we do have plenty of good boxes.

Would anyone care to bet on how many of the good boxes will actually go into the loft? :) (It has quite a small hatch.)

I really need to talk to the gardener and get him to come round before the garden settles down to sleep for the winter. And I should see if I can find bird feeders which are rather more squirrel-proof than the ones we have at the moment. This may be rather futile but at the moment, with the amount the resident squirrel is snarfing, we're going to have the fattest squirrel in Surrey roaming the lawns sometime soon. He was grabbing food out of the feeder for at least ten solid minutes on Sunday, little bugger.

So far I have managed to resist the lure of NaNoWriMo. For one thing I completely, totally, utterly don't have the time, no matter how tempting the idea might be. And also, when stressed, I tend to lose my voice - not physically but my writing voice, such as it is. I can ramble endlessly about what's going on (as you can tell, gentle readers... those of you who have made it this far) but being creative gets harder the more stressed I am.

Anyhow, things seem to be easing up. Until the next thing goes wrong...

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  • (no subject)

    Merry winter-festival-of-your-choice, all of you!

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