Translation: if I could spend my days half-immersed in a barrel of water and do everything from inside the barrel, I would. I'd fit those small wheels at the bottom and move around. I'd wear a bikini and air my luscious tummy. And splash water on passers by.
I received my edited short stories back. I have not looked at them yet. Or rather I did take a look, but that's about it. I did not bother further. At some point I need to go through the corrections and see what I'll keep from the changes. Noticed my saying, "at some point". It's not as simple as it seems. At least judging from the dreams I see, where I am trying to protect a baby from vampires that mysteriously kill the family and realise at some point that the vampire is the child itself. Child= creation. I need to protect both myself and my creation.
Come on, two chapters left. Move your ass and write them. Two bloody chapters to finish the damn book. Come on, girl. Write and stop your bellyaching.