So...how many cards...

...did we all get this year? One? Two? A dozen red roses?

I got my gas and electric bills for Valentines day this year. Pah. I want to say Humbug, but thats a Christmas grotty expression...so Pah will have to do.

Oh well. I spent my valentines night at a house party with a whole bunch of friends (as Boyo had decided to do a runner to London for the evening) - and actually, I had a great time. There was no pressure to be romantic or slushy or make that extra over the top effort just because the date tells you you should. I just drank, danced, sang and took lots of silly photos, and didnt get home til past 5am. That was a good night.

And seeing as I had given Boyo such a hard time all week for deserting me and being a general arse, when I saw him last night I had a take away bought for me, I was allowed to watch Dancing On Ice without any complaining, and as many cups of tea as I could drink made for me. Its the little things that show someone cares. (Although a big fat bunch of flowers would have been nice. But you cant teach an old dog new tricks.)

And on a completely different tack....during work today, I had to spend an eon sitting at the scanner on a different computer (tight bastards wont buy me a scanner of my own). And so I decided to open up the email I'd sent to myself from home, attaching my NaNo from 2007. Seriously, that one is still on the go. I cant believe it has been over a year and I still havent finished it.

So I opened it up, and I started attacking my keyboard thinking it would be fine to just get some done while I was waiting for the scanner to finish. And before I knew it, the scanner had finished - and three hours later I was still sat there. I havent had a roll like that for aaaaages!

Woopsy that I was supposed to be working but...hey ho. It happens. And no one seemed any the wiser.
And now...now I am almost finished. I am half way through the penultimate scene - the tricky bit seems to be out of the way.

I have lived and breathed this god damned story for fifteen long, gruelling months - I both hate it with a vengeance, and love it with a passion. I have thrashed out the plot so, so many times in my head that I can physically play it from memory like a movie I have watched far too many times. So writing it is proving to be easier than expected.

So I'm both excited that finally that first draft will be finished, and give me a good solid base to start the re-write from - and a little bit sad that this first thrilling, scary part of writing a book is almost over. Weird, huh?