Anyway, my laundry room has gotten... out of hand. I'm going to show it to you now. I advise anyone with heart trouble or a nervous condition not look at the following picture:
Yup. That is what my laziness has wrought. A solid mass of dirty clothing at least two feet deep. I have to be straight up with you, there are clothes in there my kids have worn once and grown out of in the time since I last did a massive laundry room cleaning. It comes down the landry
So, today I'm sitting down here, perched atop the deep freezer, alternating between working on edits for Abigail's January book (IN THE BLOOD, Samhain publishing, January 2011) and feeding the machines their due. I've got appropriately morose music playing (Tori Amos's utterly depressing Boys for Pele) and a two litre of Diet Coke to see me through. I just have to be sure to appease the Old Gods of laundry, so as not to be consumed by the pile myself.
If I don't return, be sure to buy up all my backlist so that I look more successful than I actually was.