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nebris~I haven't posted because I keep trying to write individual posts and getting overwhelmed, so here's a mash-up...
Random: I'm okay and fried at the same time. Getting plenty of sleep, completed the major tasks, but very emotionally frayed.
Nebs Writes: I did a full rewrite of the second chapter two days ago – which I'm happy with – but haven't been able to write any more since, even though the thing is quite alive in my mind. I keep allowing myself to be distracted. I know that is subconscious avoidance.
Kitteh Nooz: I suppose this is the Primary Issue. Icarus' foot might be just a little bit better. Hard to tell. It's a drag to have to capture him twice a day and force that shit down his throat. We've fallen down on that twice because one or the other was sleeping in the window. That makes me feel even worse, like I'm failing even more than I already have.
Meanwhile our attempts to help George survive have upset the 'local balance'. When I put the food out it's Herby and his 'misses' – a cute gray and white female – who are right there waiting. He lets her stick her face in right next to him, but fights off everyone else. There are brawls out there almost every night.
And it seems like George is not getting any of the food. He meows plaintively at Le-Le when she goes out for a smoke, but runs away when she calls him. She says he's getting skinny. *sigh*
I could refill the bowl twice a night with no guarantee that he'd ever get to the food. There are lots of cats around here. And we can't afford that anyway. All this is really digging into my heart....
Random: I'm okay and fried at the same time. Getting plenty of sleep, completed the major tasks, but very emotionally frayed.
Nebs Writes: I did a full rewrite of the second chapter two days ago – which I'm happy with – but haven't been able to write any more since, even though the thing is quite alive in my mind. I keep allowing myself to be distracted. I know that is subconscious avoidance.
Kitteh Nooz: I suppose this is the Primary Issue. Icarus' foot might be just a little bit better. Hard to tell. It's a drag to have to capture him twice a day and force that shit down his throat. We've fallen down on that twice because one or the other was sleeping in the window. That makes me feel even worse, like I'm failing even more than I already have.
Meanwhile our attempts to help George survive have upset the 'local balance'. When I put the food out it's Herby and his 'misses' – a cute gray and white female – who are right there waiting. He lets her stick her face in right next to him, but fights off everyone else. There are brawls out there almost every night.
And it seems like George is not getting any of the food. He meows plaintively at Le-Le when she goes out for a smoke, but runs away when she calls him. She says he's getting skinny. *sigh*
I could refill the bowl twice a night with no guarantee that he'd ever get to the food. There are lots of cats around here. And we can't afford that anyway. All this is really digging into my heart....
