Met up with my editor last night and she handed over the proofs of Camp Chaos. It's a bit fraudulent, I suppose, to call her my editor as she is actually a friend, but then, she has also edited the book so I suppose it's true. We also had a chat about possible future projects which is all very good and exciting. La Spin came dropped in too, as she may well end up doing some illustrations for me, which would be good. We've often talked about a joint project but have never actually made one eventuate.
Then I went home and had a strange dream in which I had the baby already and had to drive it around (driving dreams are very anxious-making for me, the non-driver). The baby was actually more of a cat than a baby and it was actually more of a talking cat than anything else. I was insisting that we attend a trivial pursuit night which is by far the weirdest part of the whole thing as I really loathe trivial pursuit - but my parents are guns at it. Every member of the family has a chopping board that they won at one TP night or another. They've got a good stash of champers, too at the moment - more Trivial loot. Perhaps I think that to be a successful parent I too will need to embrace the game? The cat-baby was mighty stroppy about the whole thing though, and quite vocal in it's oppostition to going anywhere in the car with me. Clearly, a wise cat-baby, given my dubious driving skills.
Thieu returns from his Tasmanian adventure tomorrow morning, which is good. House hunting is crappy but it's even crappier on your own (although my dear old dad has been very kindly accompanying me). It's so dispiriting, looking at rental properties. I usually end up feeling partly depressed by the meagre things on offer, partly outraged at the prices people charge for the most monstrous of dives. The good news is that there is a possibility that we might move into a friend's house as she is about to move out, so long as the real estate agent doesn't up the rent. It's in South Melbourne and is a very nice place. Best of all, it would mean I could have my Saturdays back. I really hope this comes off.
I'm anticipating a busy time ahead. There's the packing and the moving. I've got to go to New Zealand again for two weeks in June, too. I'm getting back the proofs from my kids' book today and will have a week to correct them. And there's a couple of new proposals I'm working on, too. Not quite sure how I'm going to get all this done but I've been telling myself that even if I just set aside an hour a day it will make a big difference. And I'm not going to panic, much as I am a fan of panicking.
At 17 weeks I'm still not really looking pregnant, although I'm down to one skirt and one pair of pants that actually fit. Anything that does up around my middle feels uncomfortable. I almost, almost went to the maternity wear department of Myer the other day (if there is such a thing) but chickened out at the last minute. I still have these horrible premonitions that it's all going to go awry and can't get myself to actually purchase anything that would suggest I'm relaxing into it. Still another two weeks before my next ultrasound which seems like an endless amount of time.