895 in Amazon this morning... That's good. Got down (or up, rather) to 420 yesterday which was dead exciting. It gave me such a boost, I found myself turning a blind eye to all sorts of things that would usually have had me ratty and shouting, ie children's duvets being thrown down the stairs, all cushions off sofa to make a 'bear cave', games tipped all over the floor... I just smiled gaily, thinking oh, sod it, it's not important tra la la...
I am having a bit of time off today for good behaviour. I got a voucher for a massage as one of my Christmas presents and I'm booked in for this morning. Oh, joy. Then, I'm going to buy some new clothes. And maybe shoes. Oh joy, joy, joy, joy.
Still no word on the school situation. Am braced for the end of tra la la and joy, joy, joy feelings as soon as that miserable letter of refusal comes through the door. Still, I'm hoping the fact that I'm a writer and my partner is a political campaigner means that between us we will be able to cobble together a bloody good letter of appeal (if I don't smudge the ink by weeping all over it, of course.) What a mad and stressful year this is turning out to be.
Will try and do some more work on the novel this afternoon if I am not too blissed out - this morning it struck me that now that Sexy Goody-Two-Shoes Will has become Dark, Mysterious Will with Hidden Past, he hasn't got the right stuff in his fridge. I originally wrote him as having salad and skimmed milk but now that he's not such a goody-goody, I think I should bung in some thick slabs of steak and his own bodyweight in booze. Hmmm. I like thinking about this kind of detail. Does that make me a bit sad?!
Anyway, enough about imaginary characters and their fridges, I'm off to get my shoulders and unknotted and give my credit card a severe bashing. See you later.