snellopy
Our daughter hasn't started speaking real words yet. She can make noise, and laugh, but nothing legit just yet. She's in the language sponge stage, so my wife and I are slowly trying to reign in our tongues and swear less, but I think it's a bit late already.
I used to be a gamer before, but not any more. I would describe my style of play as hardcore-casual. I miss it a bit, but not enough to return now. Family life is better than pixel people
Shouldn't be writing. Shouldn't be playing on the internet. Too much work due.
But...
Want to write. Don't want to work. And the internet, ahhh, what a distraction.
OK, I'll cut a deal with me: 30 minutes writing, 30 minutes work. Sound fair?
I was going to do it. Scratch that, I *am* going to do it. Think positive, and it'll come true. Sure he's bigger, stronger and armed better than me, but I have an advantage... there's a precedent. Just call me David
A gold watch. After 40 years of faithful service, they trot out that old chestnut. I'm insulted. Back in the good old days, there wouldn't have been a farewell party and a firm handshake. Dagger 'twixt the ribs was the *real* tradition in this profession.
They say that there is method in madness. If that's the case, why don't we see more results? Look how many people do stupid stuff - surely there should be a better success to fail ratio than what we're currently getting? There must be some unknown universal constant skewing the numbers against us
It always seems so simple. Sit and write, and the words will flow. November is Nanowrimo, a month long celebration of banging keys, and getting 50,000 words down in a month. Doesn't work that way - at least for me. Sometimes simplicity is too complex.
"Higher daddy, higher!"
Her father happily obliged.
During her first trans-atlantic flight, her faced was pressed against the window with a wordless smile, holding his hand in amazement.
As the shuttle blasted off, both these memories were brought to mind. "Thanks, dad"
My temper (and blood pressure) were rising almost uncontrollably yesterday. This is now the third? fourth? time I've written about it today. You seriously would not believe how bad the traffic is over here, just insane.
I used to have a local, back in Darwin. It was right next door. When I moved here, I had lots of locals, because I went out so very often. No longer any more, as I'm a reformed family man now. I don't really miss it that much. At first, I thought I was sort of hiding my light under a bushel a bit, but then realised that was a bad way of looking at it. Now, instead I say that I'm a family man. I like that explanation better.
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