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Oct. 25th, 2016 11:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeHow is it that during the week before SAFF while we're not packing so much as I'm making kits, the phone can ring maybe ten times in a week, and then when we're actually packing for the festival this coming weekend at which we unload and set up Thursday, the phone rings three-four times in forty five minutes.
Two of these phonecalls were 3k worth of wholesale orders. It's fine. I'm good. I'm okay. I might die at the end of today, but I'm okay.
Ten more days of this hell. Ten more days almost solid of work, if not exactly a full work day, because I'll get pulled into packing up on Sunday, I'll probably get pulled into working after capoeira on Saturday, and then the normal work week. But after next Friday I'll be okay. I think. I can breathe again. Somewhat. Through the resentment of being the only ablebodied younger-than-sixty person in the store.
I'm tired. I'm cranky. I am exceedingly cranky which I know is brought on by root canal stress and exhaustion of having basically one day off a week for the past two? Three weeks? I think it might have been three weeks minimum. And I suck at promoting myself so no one is buying my book but you know what? I don't have the fucking energy to promote a damn thing.
(Aunt Beej is with me, she just came up and said 'instead of doing the show why don't you and me go off somewhere nice and quiet and let everyone else deal with it'. YES PLEASE CAN WE DO THAT.)
(And then I made the mistake of reminding her that once we're done with this she gets to do Nutcracker oooooops. This is what happens when you do or are involved with anything ballet or remotely ballet related, the months of October through December become Nutcracker Hell. Sometimes more than.)
I don't know what to do you guys. I'm just very, very, very tired. I'll try to get a couple stories up one today, one in a week or so. And get the proof for the paper copy finished for things. In the meantime, if you feel in the need of some fiction (urban fantasy or fantasy western) consider a book?
Two of these phonecalls were 3k worth of wholesale orders. It's fine. I'm good. I'm okay. I might die at the end of today, but I'm okay.
Ten more days of this hell. Ten more days almost solid of work, if not exactly a full work day, because I'll get pulled into packing up on Sunday, I'll probably get pulled into working after capoeira on Saturday, and then the normal work week. But after next Friday I'll be okay. I think. I can breathe again. Somewhat. Through the resentment of being the only ablebodied younger-than-sixty person in the store.
I'm tired. I'm cranky. I am exceedingly cranky which I know is brought on by root canal stress and exhaustion of having basically one day off a week for the past two? Three weeks? I think it might have been three weeks minimum. And I suck at promoting myself so no one is buying my book but you know what? I don't have the fucking energy to promote a damn thing.
(Aunt Beej is with me, she just came up and said 'instead of doing the show why don't you and me go off somewhere nice and quiet and let everyone else deal with it'. YES PLEASE CAN WE DO THAT.)
(And then I made the mistake of reminding her that once we're done with this she gets to do Nutcracker oooooops. This is what happens when you do or are involved with anything ballet or remotely ballet related, the months of October through December become Nutcracker Hell. Sometimes more than.)
I don't know what to do you guys. I'm just very, very, very tired. I'll try to get a couple stories up one today, one in a week or so. And get the proof for the paper copy finished for things. In the meantime, if you feel in the need of some fiction (urban fantasy or fantasy western) consider a book?