27 April 2006

Hell breaking loose!

Okay, I have 20 book-bouquets sitting on every surface in the kitchen. My husband, who was in Kansas City anyway, went on down to his folk's house and picked up the bouquets and brought them clear back up here (that was a 90-minute drive coming back, bless his heart) so on Friday I'll be able to load up the car and drive down to the Northlands without having to go a zillion miles out of my way.

My daughter got pinkeye so I had to cancel my subbing today. She can't go to preschool because the teacher's worried she'll spread it to the other kids. Rats. I hated to cancel my subbing because I don't like messing with my employers like that. But I am glad the job is flexible enough to allow that. In the city job, we were penalized for taking time off for our kids. I don't miss those guys.

The good part, though is that I can get caught up on the stuff I need to do for the conference. Need to print out a pile of synops and queries so I'll have 'em ready just in case. Need to see if I have all the signs done. Need to find out what time I need to show up, and make lists of what I can do to help out. I want to be sure that I can help out and take the initiative -- the conference bosses heads are whirling with all the stuff they already have to do.

Okay, let's get to work! I'll have my laptop with me, though it doesn't have internet access -- I'll write posts this weekend, Lord willing, and load 'em up on Monday or Tuesday or whenever I get my brain back!

On the CD player: "Eastbound and Down" by Jerry Reed (a good song for gettin' things done).

2 comments:

Melinda R. Cordell said...

Dang, that would freak me the heck out! My girl just had some eye snot and little crusties and that was it. Except now I'm worrying that I'm going to go to the conference and suddenly, during the shameless pitches, I develop eye snot! And then I'm up next!

My allergies still haven't totally cleared up, so I'll be up there trying to clean up my eyes for the shameless pitches before the full panel of editors and agents notice, and then that will be the moment I sneeze and my nose fills like a balloon and there will be no Kleenexes, and then the nose will start running like a faucet. Eye snot! Nose snot! "Give me something to blow my nose on!" I cry.

This is how I will singlehandedly clear the room.

But see, if I imagine it then it can't happen.

Melinda.

Melinda R. Cordell said...

Oh, I'll just end up running at the mouth endlessly, my usual style.

I used to be really shy and quiet when I was a kid. But once I hit college and got over being shy, I've been making up for lost time ever since.