Not a fire drill

The fire alarm went off this morning at my place of business. It wasn’t a drill. Sirens blared and two fire engines came swooping in (they were white and yellow too, not red–what’s up with that?). I hadn’t had my coffee yet so I’m not quite sure how I ended up in the parking lot with the other cluster of mostly-annoyed, somewhat puzzled employees. I do remember debating whether I should take my purse or my coffee with me when the claxon sounded. I ended up with my purse, but I wish I’d had enough neurons firing to have thought to take both. By the time it was determined that the alarm was set off by a malfunctioning fire sensor and the fire engines ambled away, my coffee was cold.

Sigh.

Slept something like ten hours last night and awoke in a daze, unsure if I was still asleep or actually awake as I’d spent much of my AM R.E.M. sleep dreaming about waking up. I hate that.

Trimmed Hobkin’s nails last night. I waited until he was curled up in my lap, looking for all the world like a lumpy, four-legged pillow before gently grasped one of his limp paws. Without even cracking an eye open, he snatched it away and immediately rolled over so all four paws were curled beneath him. How did he know?? I’ve been fiddling with his paws when he’s asleep to get him used to them being handled, and he’s been letting me. But he knew, even in his comatose state, he knew! There’s a lot going on in that wee brain of his. I still managed to get sixteen out of twenty toes trimmed. My brain is bigger than his. Hah!

Very ready for the weekend. Looking forward to britzkrieg and rigel_kent‘s wedding tomorrow and rehearsal dinner tonight. Melting Pot fondue. Yum.

Writing stuff:

Did a lot of research on the Chinese goddess Nu Wa and her brother Fu Xi. I thought I needed an angle to adapt the myth for a younger audience and kept coming up with nothing but circles. Then I had some sugar and realized that children like circles. So I set to work. 1800 words later, I’ve completed the zero draft. Going to make Matthew first reader it (although he’s not a big fan of fairy/folk tales or mythology), and then debate whether I want to bother sending it through Critters. When I’ve polished it to a nice, steady shine, it’ll go into the queue of “stories to submit to Cricket.”

Also got a rejection from Talebones. The editor wrote “Good, but not for us” at the bottom of the form letter, and also apologized for the extra long response time. Another “good but no” for this particular story, which is still one of my favorites. Dammit. I will find a home for this baby . . .