I am knackered, hungry and sober, all poor conditions to be in of a Sunday evening. The Titans' passing game sucks royal arse, I have no money until payday and, worst of all, my Xbox has died.
I have mentioned this particular middle-class emergency before, and commented upon the dangers of convergent tech in the living room: but this (rather more final, given that this is an out-of-warranty RROD) time it's less of a blow. My borrowed laptop has a DVD drive so I can still watch films as long as I wiggle the mouse regularly, and all my saved games are ones I can affordably lose, with the exception of Fallout 3 (which is so much fun to reroll that it's almost a blessing). But the red ring has unfortunately coincided with another finality, that of the completion of the final draft of The Writing Class, so now I'm at a loose end.
The book won't be out for a while yet as I'm waiting for various people to take photos of the beach for the dustjacket, so while I've begun consolidating my notes for the fantasy trilogy I'm doing next (working title Tales Of Komorolia) I still have a bit of free time on my hands, a condition I have never found comfortable. I am reading a Neil Gaiman I've been saving for a time such as this (Anansi Boys, since you ask) but that can only last so long.
Unfortunately, even with a working console this is the time of year when lots of good games are either out too recently to have dropped in price (Chronicles Of Riddick, Halo 3: ODST) or are still pending (CoD: MW2, Forza 3): since prices rarely drop between the start of October and Boxing Day morning it's going to be a period both fertile and fallow.
Oh well, back to the backlists, then. I still have a couple of reserve books to tide me over until fortunes change.