Stuffed if I know what, but who knows, maybe a plot will emerge at some point.

***

Of all the crappy jobs the world has to offer, slaying the evil undead is the suckiest. I ought to know, I've done most of them, and somehow I always end up back on the slaying thing. The pay stinks - if you get anything, which you usually don't - you've got to keep the law off your back while you're getting the undead to be just plain old-fashioned dead, and of course any undead with half a brain to call his own figures it's better to take you out before you can stake, behead or whatever. It would drive a girl to drink, except I already drank more than I should and that was on the good days.

You don't even get gratitude from the victims any more, just some dumb teenage girl wailing about you staking her sparkly boyfriend.

I tell you, the job sucks.

Something a colleague said in the last few days got me thinking - which is never a good thing because there's no telling what will come of it - about the nature of clinical depression and the rest of the family of mental illnesses that are associated with creativity. The association is so strong it's not controversial - the list of musicians, artists, authors and other creative types who spent their whole lives in a running battle with mental illness is enough to fill a book all by itself.

I'm not sure when I started thinking of my personal version of that particular hell as something external to me, and demonic, but it's proved to be a remarkably apt metaphor for depression. When I'm deep in an episode, the depression-induced promptings feel as though they're not me, and given their nature, 'demon' is as apt a description as any.

So, I live with the demons of depression. Mostly they're fairly quiet these days, thanks to the joys of medication and some hard-learned lessons in turning my thoughts away from the old, self-destructive paths. Sometimes they get louder, or something catches me by surprise and I fall into the old habits, but mostly, I'm doing all right.

It's a journey, and perhaps sharing that journey will help other people who struggle with similar issues. For me, perhaps the biggest adjustment was coming to understand at the gut level that I can't trust my own mind. When the demons are in control, it lies. I have been utterly convinced that the best thing I could do for those I loved was to take myself - permanently - out of their lives. That kind of lie.

So... that's the first lesson for life with the demons. They lie. They take your weaknesses and use them to try to convince your world is better if it doesn't include you.

No matter how bad things are, no matter how hopeless they seem, this is not true. Even if you really are the worst person in the world, you can redeem yourself.

Just booked my flights for the Discworld convention in September.

The fun part is that the best arrangement for me means a red-eye out of AZ Sunday night. Monday, once I get home, I"ll be sleeping.

Excitement level may increase as the date gets closer. Right now the thought of airport hassle is overwhelming the excitement levels. I used to love flying, but not any more.

After two lovely, lazy days on the beach, I came home, and wrote about 1k on ConSensual. That one's now over 50k words and hurrying on to the insanity of the final sequence - which is likely to be fairly long all by itself given what's going on there.

Some of the highlights of the weekend:
- jacuzzi the perfect size for two
- walking on the boardwalk.
- American Beach House architecture, completely with candy colors or earth tones, lots of wood or something like it, and BIG decks. I never knew you could have a desert of them. Block after block after block of nothing but beach houses with holiday rental signs and too-perfect-to-be-lived-in appearance. Lots of people around, walking dogs, cycling, going to and from the beach, but stuffed if I know where they get their groceries, or if they eat out, where they go.

Now that I'm home, I've had much velcro from one cat, and am being shunned by the other. We will eventually be forgiven, but not just yet.

Writing progress two days running. That's got to be something of a record :)

800-some words on ConSensual, in which convention costuming is displayed and commented on. And the competition hasn't even started yet.

The phrase "nudity is not a costume" will be used somewhere, I'm just not sure where, yet.

The weekends are too short. I need to get ready for the work week and put the nice shiny really bad taste SFF costumes away.

Back to it after mid-week upheavals and phone calls derailing anything resembling the ability to write. Finished the current chapter of Long Haul and sent it to first readers.

Progress: 1200-ish words.

In other news, I have a kitty showing tummy and doing his very best to convince me I want to rub it.

Clocked a smidge under 1000 words on Long Haul today.

Not bad, considering I was also juggling several IM conversations and I"m still recovering from last week's work feralness.

And now to bed, before I fall over - always a possibility for the narcoleptic.

350-odd words on Long Haul today before creative trainwreck occurred.

Some phone calls completely derail my ability to write. I've got to get past this, although stuffed if I know how.

Shortish chapter finished on Consensual.

Progress for the day: about 2k words, bringing ConSensual to 47.5k

For a relatively small town museum, not bad. Arboretum makes a nice walk despite very sticky weather. Now to try to write.