I’m working late at the dayjob today, having started late under the assumption that driving back from the Sunshine Coast would be a foolhardy undertaking this morning. I’ve had to much good food and not enough sleep, and I’m suffering from the vague ick that comes from sleeping in an overly air-conditioned room.
When I got to work I was told about the earthquake in Christchurch, New Zealand. Every couple of minutes someone plays a youtube clip of the events, or downloads a snippet of news from the internet, or simply sees something new on twitter. Some people have family over there, others were just planning to head over to NZ for a holiday in the near future.
I’ve never been to Christchurch, but I hear it’s nice. I’m starting to suspect that nature has it in for the whole southern hemisphere of the planet at the moment.
If you have the resources to do so, it may be a good time to consider donating to the New Zealand Red Cross and similar organizations.
In happier news, I was paid for a story today. There is nothing like receiving payment for stuff you’ve written to remind you that it really is the best job in the world.
This is important because tonight I’m going to go home, tired and cranky and my lungs filled with air-conditioner induced muck, and I’m going to try and do some more work on Flotsam, and some more work on the novel with the unwieldy title, and some more work on the Black Candy rewrite.
Odds are I’ll be fighting for every new word tonight and I’m going to dislike every minute of it, but the dislike is momentary, and will have more to do with me not yet having a grasp on the projects than anything else.
So, yes, coolest job in the world. I’ll remember this.
While I was writing this the news came through that there are 65 confirmed dead in Christchurch. Parts of the cathedral and arts center suffered damage. Seriously, consider donating.
Still reading Moby Dick. It’s still awesome.