77 Hours

Seventy-seven hours don't explain why I've been MIA since August. I can't even explain that one; maybe I just thought I'd posted here a few times in the interim. Wow.

*dusts the place off*

No, seventy-seven hours are how many I've worked in the last nine straight days. Way back in December, I was "temporarily" promoted to Interim Store Manager. My manager was promoted to a new store, so three weeks before Christmas, I'm in the hot seat. Two months later, I'm still there. I'm exhausted. My legs ache, my arms ache, even my fingers ache.

But I still manage to write a few words, in between ten hour shifts. Writing a novella set in the Watchman-Universe helped keep me sane over Christmas. I wrote it with the intention of submitting to an anthology, but missed the deadline. Oh well. It'll keep, and it was fun to write.

The WIP is tentatively titled "Alchemy 101." It will make sense one day, I swear. I love the concept, and adore one of my protags (I love his brother, too, but there's something about Micah...). One knows when people are about to die; the other is taunted by the ghost of his dead cousin. What the frell does alchemy have to do with it all? Therein lies the mystery....