There isn’t much that I can complain about. Life is pretty good right now. I could moan about morning rush hour passengers, but, what’s the point? They’re just NPCs, to borrow a term my S.O. used the other day.
I despise trains, buses and public transport. However, it’s the most convenient and cheapest way to get around in this city. If I were elsewhere, I’d drive. But then I’d hate the other drivers. Did I mention I don’t do well in public or around strangers, and in crowds? I think I stated that last, though not the first two.
Not counting my chickens, but I am grateful that life is picking up. Presently, I actually get to work early or on time, and I also arrive home in the evening with enough time to be able to cook dinner (except when I’m feeling lazy). And a wonderful miracle: right now, I get to write during the work day. It’s not overly busy, so I can slip in the writing.
The secret project is going well, albeit slowly. However, that’s fine. I’m in no rush to finish it, and see no point pushing myself so much that the pressure mounts and I grind to a halt. Subconscious thoughts got knocked loose, which floated into the conscious mind: Backtrack to before the story started at its current point and write the necessary scenes and action that led to the latest scene. With the way this is now set up and will soon develop, the plot points are logical.