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| Image: Herval |
For most of the country today was back to school, college, and work day. The holidays are over, the excesses have ceased, and now the cold hard reality hits home – it’s January, it’s winter, and the summer is as far off as it can possibly be. Fortunately for me, I like winter and the cold, so no complaints from Camp Galbraith.
None of this stopped my time at the day job being a miserable affair. There’s been another shifting of departments (not us this time) and I found myself with some new neighbours at my bank of desks. Not the most polite of people, mostly up their own arses with self-importance, but I shan’t complain – it’s the modern way.
I fought my way through the boredom with coffee and dreams, and when I came out the other side I noticed that I’d managed to do some work on my GDRs already – before I began work and over my lunch. Which by the way was delicious today – Bombay Chickpea soup from my favourite wee coffee shop (Club Sandwich on Dundas Street).
Evening time saw some reorganisation in my office and the delivery of the remaining half of my Christmas gifts to Gail. Some of them hadn’t arrived in time – the good gifts, of all things – and today I finally had them all in my possession.
New resolution: try and not be a bad hubbie.
I sent a very polite follow-up email to the publisher who has Hunting Jack requesting an estimated response time, as its been almost three months since the full manuscript was sent in and five months since the original query. It’s doing my head in and without any idea of their expected turnaround on their website, I’ve started to wonder if someone has missed an email somewhere. Probably not, but I would expect emails of such ilk from people who have submitted to The Ranfurly Review.
Fingers and toes at the ready.
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Freedom from the Mundane 