By Christ, do I ever have a severe case of filing fatigue… today was a frenzied blur of transcribing and writing, transcribing and writing, transcribing and writing. Why do I do this to myself when I know better than to leave transcribing to the last minute? It aaaaaalways takes sooooo much longer than I expect. And then I have to dash toward my deadline like it’s Stella McCartney at Target all over again (I’m really not sorry I skipped that particular race). But I filed my two stories, right on the dot of 3 o’clock, right down to the wire. Not exactly life on the edge a la that guy from Touching the Void, but risky enough for this timid little rabbit. Oh man, I really just want to go for a walk along the beach before it gets dark, because as the Yanks say, I’m beat, but I feel like I really have to get my batting average on DoctorDi back up where it belongs, especially because, unbeknownst to you, my precious, silent, unknown, mostly invisible reader, yesterday we reached a little milestone together of over 9,000 views… I know it’s not exactly worthy of its own theme song, but over the number of posts (345), that averages 26 views per post, which is an awful lot better than that sinking feeling that I’m talking to myself, which elsewhere in my writing life is something of an occupational hazard. Anyway, we did it, we’ve exceeded 9,000 views, thank you very much, and I am hoping we can hit 10,000 by DoctorDi’s second birthday on September 29. I think I have already told you that I am hopelessly sentimental that way – I calculate anniversaries almost obsessively, and usually in terms of some kind of ambition (“By my next birthday, I hope I’ve…had a short story accepted for publication.” You win some, you lose some, but my birthday’s in September too, so it’s not too late!).
Anyway, I blame Llew for the deadline dash today. Llew and the new microbrewery that’s opened down opposite the wharf, 4 Pines Brewing Company Llew immediately read that as ‘four pints’ and insisted we get stuck in, merely to “inspect” the joint, of course. I stuck to the schooners but it was such a lovely mild night, and I had such a hot case of editor anxiety after that mix-up from Monday, that before I knew it, we were thirsty. Very, very thirsty. Lucky for us we were at a brewery. Phew – that was close.
At the moment they’re running two home-brews through the taps, but it’s going to increase to five over time, and the brand new glistening vats are right there taking up an impressive area of floor space and looking very encouraging in that Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory kind of way (“You’re turning Voilet, Violet!”). All good things shall come to those who wait for more good beer… and by that I mean us, of course. Big kids, yes, but still children of the strictly over 18 years of age variety (or at least those who look the part, if my memory past the age of 14 serves). And the best thing is: no hangover. I feel tip top today, just harried by my deadline which, just to be clear, is completely my own fault and nothing to do with the manifold amber delights at 4 Pines at all.