Beer Delivery

Last night I thought to myself, “Self, I might like a beer tonight.”

Self replied, “It’s Monday.”

Me: “So?”

Self: “Do you really need beer on a Monday?”

Me: “I didn’t say I need a beer, I said I might like a beer.”

Self: “Too bad. There’s no beer in the fridge.”

Me: “Oh. Well, that’s easily fixed.”

Self: “Really? Do you really want to get in the car and drive halfway across town to the Beer Store? There are only so many hours between Kiddo’s bedtime and the time you turn into a pumpkin. And weren’t you going to do some writing tonight.”

Me: “Hmm good point, Self. Still, we should get beer sometime this week so we have it for the weekend. We have company coming after all. And it’s Canada Day weekend. If I wait until Friday the Beer Store will be way too busy. It won’t take too long, I’ll still get my writing done. I promise.”

Self: “Whatever you say.”

I told Hubby my plan to go get beer. He was supportive. He did request that I swing by the Shell station on the way home and get some of those garbage tax tags as it’s garbage day and we might be over the limit this week. No problem. I grabbed my wallet and keys.

On my way down the street, I noticed dark clouds on the horizon. By the time I was across the bridge raindrops were falling.

By the time I got across town Armageddon had arrived. Sheets of rain and ice pellets were coating my windshield faster than my wipers could swipe them away. I know hail is common during thunderstorms, but I have a grudge against Nature when she makes me deal with frozen water from the sky in June.

I was seriously reconsidering how badly I wanted that beer. But the Beer Store was in sight, so I pulled into the parking lot. I turned on a podcast and waited for the onslaught to let up. Eventually it did. Sort of. I got beer.

I went to the convenience store closest to the Beer Store. Turns out, they don’t sell garbage tags. There was a Shell across the street. Not the one we usually go to, but if one Shell sells them…it’ll be faster if I just jog over. By this time it was raining again. They don’t sell garbage tags either. I gave up, ran back to my car, and drove to our usual Shell station. I got garbage tags.

I came home soggy. I had a shower, and some tea, and a beer. I didn’t get my writing done.

Which brings me to today. Our Tuesday morning routine went as usual: dropped Kiddo at daycare, Hubby and I went to the gym, I dropped Hubby at work. On the way home, this came on the radio:

Have you ever found yourself sitting on the couch in the evening thinking, ‘Boy, I’d really like a beer.’

(Whoa)

Only, you realize you don’t have any beer in the fridge. And you don’t really want to go all the way to the store to get one.

(It’s like they know me)

Wouldn’t it be great if you could have beer delivered to your door?

(That would be so great)

As it happens, starting today, the Beer Store in Ottawa will be trying beer delivery on a trial basis. I no longer live in Ottawa, so I won’t benefit unless it’s successful enough for the Beer Store to expand this idea to other locations. My first thought was, “Cool! It’ll be great if that catches on.”

My second thought brought me back to university, and I realized we were all probably better off that it took considerably more effort to get our hands on alcohol than it did to get a pizza. I can probably continue to survive without beer delivery.

On the other hand, if the liquor store got on board and we could get delivery wine…ok, ok I don’t really need that either. The list of reasons to leave the house is getting pretty small as it is (thanks, Amazon).

Advertisements

Too Much Beige

We’ve lived in our current house since September. In the nine months since then, we’ve mostly unpacked (the garage doesn’t count, right?), but decorating has been another matter. So far, the only items adorning the walls are a calendar in the kitchen, a mirror left behind by the previous owners—conveniently over chips in the paint—and a TV mount we have no use for. Even if we did have use for it, it’s current home in the dining area doesn’t work for me.

So, the TV mount has to go, decorative as it is:

As for the mirror, it’ll probably go too, but there is part of me wondering whether I would like it better if I took the time to refinish it, maybe in white?

I’m also wondering about the odds of me ever getting around to refinishing it. Slim, I think. Either way, it doesn’t look good where it is in the middle of the dining room. Then there’s the question of why I haven’t hung anything of ours on thw walls, except the calendar.

Rewind to September…

I’m not a huge fan of the multiple shades of beige that make up this house. Especially the two shades in the living/dining room:

This is not a trick of the light. An interior decorator I am not, but surely I can do better than this. That mint-green in the bathroom could be improved upon too. And the off-white in my den was probably done by the builder. Do I like that bluish colour in the bedroom…

Ok, so priority one is to unpack. Priority two is to paint. I wouldn’t want to put pictures up only to take them all down again when I paint. That would be silly. Especially if I’m going to paint soon, which of course I am. Maybe in a month or so…

October…November…December…maybe over the Christmas holiday?

…and now it’s June.

We narrowly dodged the bullet of having to move within a year of buying this place, but there is still a reasonable chance we will be moving a year from now. This has put a damper on my decorating enthusiasm. However, there is also a good chance we will not move in a year. At which point we will have lived here for almost two years, in multi-beige, empty-wall land.

Time to paint.

Step one: find a colour that works for almost all of the upper lever (semi-open design makes this the most logical approach), that I won’t get tired of looking at, neutral enough that I won’t panic if we have to put the house on the market in six months, but not beige.

Not blue, we had that in our last house. It’s time for something new.

Not yellow. I like yellow, but too much yellow can be worse than too much beige.

Green? In my experience (3 homes ago) finding the right hue us tricky. The right green is awesome. The wrong green is horrible.

When we were house hunting we saw some houses with grey as their main interior colour. Each time we liked it, even different shades. Grey it is.

But there are so many greys. It’s hard to get an accurate picture of paint cards, but I’ve narrowed it down to these:

On first impressions I love the darker shades on the bottom. I can imagine a brightly-coloured, or even white, picture frame against a saturated-grey backdrop and I love it. Unfortunately, our main living area isn’t huge and it doesn’t get much natural light. Dark is not a safe bet. I don’t want feel like I’m living in a dungeon. And I really don’t want to do this twice.

On the other hand, I also don’t want to trade various shades of beige for various shades of not quite white. Thus, I’m leaning towards the shades on top. Lighter, but still far from white.

Step two: Given the difficulty in imagining what a colour will look like based on a tiny square, and the overall surface area I plan to cover with this colour (therefore the effort that would go into fixing a mistake in colour choice) I will be investing in sample cans of paint for the first time.

To be continued.

45 minutes

The baby is napping. I have approximately forty-five minutes of uninterrupted time ahead (probably). If I am ever going to complete a piece of writing ever again, I must learn to take advantage of these little windows.

But…

…someone else wants my attention…

Poor kitties are often neglected these days. How can I resist???

In other news, I got a Chapters gift card for Christmas. Can’t wait to buy more books for my to-be-read-when-my-child-is-seven pile. OK, it’s not that bad. Sometimes I manage to read a whole two pages of a book before I pass out at night.

We Can’t Compare

I should really stay off the internet until I’ve done my writing for the day. I think, I’ll just pop on and see if any of the blogs I follow have interesting updates, maybe browse the news quickly (usually not since that can be a less-than-inspiring way to start the day). Skimming the various blogs/pages I like to follow can take as little as five minutes.

Unless, I find something interesting. Like today…

Reading a post by A Writer’s Notepad, I came to Nina Mishkin’s The Getting Old Blog. Particularly, the following posts:

My Three Nazis

Hitler’s Lampshades

Continue reading

Quiet House = Perfect Procrastinating Environment.

Hubby is away this week. Not an unusual event, being apart is something we’re quite used to. A few days away is hardly a blip on the radar. In fact, part of me thought, hmm maybe I’ll get more done while he’s away. Quiet house, no distractions, perfect writing environment.

Not that Hubby does anything specific to impede my writing when he’s home, but like most couples (I hope) we like spending time together. I’m both more likely to stop working when he gets off work 4-5pm, and to stay up late watching a movie or something—leading to sleeping in and a less productive morning—when he’s home. Now that I don’t have a day job forcing my ass out of bed at 6 in the morning, that is. We also don’t have kids yet, as you may have guessed.

So here I am, in a quiet house with all the time in the world. Yep, just me, my computer, and the cats.20131107_124159[1]

Just me and, oh look the gingerbread latte is back at Starbucks! Better go get me one of those.

Me, my computer, my tasty coffee by my side…twitter…facebook…email…other people’s blogs to read. Hmm, haven’t played that piano in while. Maybe today’s the day I’ll learn page two of that song I bought last year.

Maybe not.

My procrastination expands to fill the space available. For all the times I try to blame any force outside of myself for my lack of productivity, how lucky I am to have these reminders that it all comes down to me.

Yay! An almost-300-word blog post. Maybe the day won’t be a total waste after all. As I categorize this post under ‘writing’, I consider adding one called ‘not writing’. I’m soooo clever.

What to do, What to do…Tug-of-War

I’ve got a few things on my writing to-do list right now: I’m working on a novel–aside from Dosterra, which is also a work in progress–I have a flash-fiction piece set aside for future editing before I decide where to submit it, and of course there’s Letter From Your Girl, which requires tweaking, but as I mentioned yesterday I’m giving it a few days, maybe longer, for my maturity and professional detachment to kick back in after the critique I received set off all of my defensive alarms.  There was a time when I didn’t take feedback personally…before I became a writer. 

Anyway, I decided I should work on my novel.  It’s been a few days since I’ve tackled it, and leaving it for too long can cause me to lose the flow. Problem, I’ve hit a little wall as far as what I think should happen next. There is no magic solution to this. Normally it’s just a matter of sitting down and starting, and eventually something comes even if it’s only a place holder until a better idea replaces it. This time when I sat down, I was overcome with a very persistent urge to go back to the beginning and edit what I’ve already written. My rationale being, by the time I finish doing that I’ll know what I want to have happen next.

Sounds logical. The thing is, any site where you can find writing tips advises against this. They say ‘write first, edit later’ for the very simple, and true, reason that the write-edit-write-edit cycle can become an endless, inescapable loop. I know this. Still, half of my brain wanted to progress the story, the other half wanted to edit.

The tug-of-war came out a tie. Result: neither story progression, nor editing occurred. I wondered over to youtube for a while, played my guitar a little–yes my life is very tough these days–made some lunch, played with the cats, and the curser on the page didn’t budge.      20131030_231920[1] 20131030_232020[1]

Finally, in danger of wasting the entire day, I gave up on the novel and abandoned the official to-do list all together. Instead, I went to my unfinished-stories folder and picked out another piece I had started a while ago, but abandoned, and managed to move that story forward by a few hundred words. Not much, and I have no plans for what I’ll do with it when it’s finished, but some writing got done and that makes for a good day.

 

 

Oh The Power of Indecision

I know I promised to provide more reviews on sites where I’ve published, or attempted to publish short stories online, and I will. First, however, I’m going to discuss my problem with indecision.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I like to have more than one project on the go at a time. When inspiration isn’t there for one, it might be there for the other. There is, unfortunately, a downside to this approach: Indecision regarding which story to work on at any given time.

At the moment I have two writing goals. One is working ahead on the next few chapters of Dosterra, such that I can actually go back and rethink/edit chapters before publishing them, while keeping up a publishing schedule of one chapter every couple of weeks. The other is writing a short story for a contest on a site called On The Premises.

Generally speaking, Dosterra is the priority — so I should work on that first…but the On The Premises contest does have a deadline (a real one, not a self-imposed one), and I would like to spend enough time on it that I not only finish the story, but actually feel it’s worth submitting at all — so I should work on that first…and so, days go by and I don’t work on either one of them.

I blog instead; that counts as writing, doesn’t it?

Today I actually did buckle down and work on Dosterra, thinking the whole time about how that other story is still in that annoying stage where I have an idea about how I want the story to feel and I’ve created some characters, but it doesn’t have a clear enough shape in my mind to convince me that it will ever fully exist.

I’d love to tell myself that the more I write the less this dilemma will occur. But I know better than that.