Sitting up at three in the morning and drinking coffee, listening to folk implosion and stuck on a really bad bit in my book. Yes. I have been writing. I finally got my arse into getting a printer and now I'm working on this manuscript I've been dreaming about for a few years. I guess I can take it off the ambition part down the bottom. I could put something there about trying to turn my mangled English into something people will want to read. On other writing related news, news related to me being a writer, that damned Archeaology story is being published soon. I got an invite to the launch of the anthology its in, but I'm not for that kind of thing. I hate being around people in enclosed areas. Especially if I'm going to be criticly rendered by any of them. I'm liable to make pained faces while trying to ignore them then run to the exit like I've nearly been caught short. Archeaology was a short story I wrote about a guy going through all the garbage in his house after his girlfriend has left him. I wrote it after cleaning up the house in Melbourne once. Though, I didn't have a girlfriend at the time. I just put that in to make the descriptions more interesting.