My Apple Watch Hates Me

My Apple Watch Hates Me

Stupid Apple Watch. It tells me that I’ve exercised for four minutes, but that I haven’t stood at all in the last hour. It tells me that I haven’t climbed any flights of stairs just because its definition of a flight of stairs is a higher elevation than the actual flight of stairs in my house. I rescue it from the trash-heap, fix it up, love it forever, and this is how it repays me?

No More Pantsing!

Down With Pants!

I’ve been a “pantser” for as long as I can remember. If you don’t know, there are two types of writers — pantsers and plotters. Pantsers write without any real plan for how their story will happen. Plotters, well, the clue’s in the name. And for the longest time, I’ve been a pantser. Or at least I was, until now.