I have been working on a couple of deadlines (a Strange Horizons article, a paper for a seminar, revising Summerton) and thus did what I always do: massive, herculean amounts of procrastination.
On Saturday, I helped take apart a second-hand bookstore. I am very sad to see it go, but I am very happy to be paid for my efforts in second-hand books. Many many many of them.
On Saturday night, I roasted a chicken with couscous.
On Sunday, I chopped up a bunch of the roast chicken and made pot pies. Then I made a lemon-raspberry tart, including the pastry, from scratch. (Rubbing the butter into the flour really hurts my hands, and I always forget how much.) Then, what the hey, I had a bunch of egg whites left over, who’s for coconut macaroons?
This morning, it was time to make my standard editing fuel, which is a big pot of chili con carne. Of course I can’t type while I’m eating chili, so I had to break out the Gilmore Girls DVDs.
After years of berating myself for laziness, I have decided that this is actually pretty much how just how I get things done. If I have stuff due, then I need to allow for procrastination time as part of the working process. That way, everything gets done and I’m way less stressed about it.
And boy, do I eat well.
In conclusion! My upstairs housemate left for a European Grand Tour. That picture in the thumbnail is what I have done to the coffee table since.