Or my purse.
Swearing like a sailor, I broke back into my own house, scared the heck out of the cats, grabbed my purse.
Couldn't find my keys.
I turned the house upside-down looking for them. Only to find that they were, in fact, in my purse.
By this time, it was far too late to catch the bus. But I tried anyway, only to discover I don't have any bus tickets. I raced to buy bus tickets, raced back across the road, only to have the bus roar past me at a hundred miles an hour.
The next one stopped, though, and was moving fast enough to get me to a transfer point for the one that previously refused my existence.
Until a minor collision before us stopped traffic on Bank St. for a while. Just missed my connection. Had to wait for the other bus that drove all over God's green pastures.
Arrived to work ten minutes late.
I'm also 2 000 words behind at the moment. The good news that The Dying God & Other Stories is now available in paperback had me working the rounds, getting the word out, and starting a competition. See on the right hand side of the screen there? I'm giving away two free copies on Goodreads.com. Follow the link and enter!
Spread the word, as well, if you want. The more people who at least look at the book, the greater chance of success I have. Though, honestly, the way today's going, I'm really not expecting much at all.
I'm frustrated, I'm homesick, and I'm behind. I don't care. I'm going to watch Aussie telly for a while. Rush here I come!
Have a great long weekend everyone! I'll be back Tuesday... hopefully in a better mood.
I have... noticed some of our rather curious superlatives... Walking over a ploughed field, a rustic, noticing some spear-grass, said, "It is the eatenest thing that grow" - that is, the most exhausting or devouring of the soil.
- Edward moor's Suffolk Words and Phrases, 1823