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July 22, 2011 / Bika

Fumes and Falsehoods

“Whatever happened to Fiction Friday?” you might ask. Well, I ate it.

Not really. Actually I just ate a metric ton of Mediterranean food and beer, and the garlic fumes emanating from my face are starting to cloud up my screen so I better sum up before I can’t read what I’m typing.

Friday Fiction… is a lie. At leasy, it is right now. I’m not stressed overmuch about it though, because I have plenty of other things to stress about, like packing up everything in my house and arranging to get carpets replaced and culling my belongings for yard sale swag. I’m getting ready to move, and it’s a BIG move, and I’m so excited I could pee. Just a little.

In between changing my pants and pinching myself to make sure it’s not a dream, I pack boxes. I bought 65 of ’em from Uline, which has a warehouse just a couple hours from here. There’s some guilt in that purchase, I admit–seems like I should’ve tried to get used boxes that people would otherwise throw away–but then, I can always give them away when I’m done with them.

And this way my stuff won’t smell like old people or warehouses or bananas, and whatever other weird things people used to store in there. (“Who stores old people in boxes? Jesus, what kind of freak are you?” Shut up or I’ll put you in a box!) Yep. Nothing but the heady scent of fresh, cardboard-y cardboard.

My other excuse reason is that I’m working on one BIG story and one medium-sized story right now and haven’t had much time for side projects. I’d love to share them, but I can’t. Once I finish Coyote Box I’ll share, but until then this Bika is a busy bee.

Oh, one last note. I’m still posting weekly at Seven Deadly Divas, along with a ton of great ladies who are also awesome friends. See what I’ve been writing here.


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