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Saturday afternoon
Oct. 21st, 2006 05:45 pmOkay, I'm down one schnauzer---his daddy came and got him. This is good. He was a noisy little bastard.
Because I am on the computer from hell, I am not attempting to write anything on it. No, not a good idea. Because, if I spent hours and hours composing something incredible, and had this piece of shit devour it, well, I'd go totally postal and S would come home to find her computer beaten to death and "REDRUM" written all over in the blood from my wounded fists.
Instead, I took some paper on a clipboard out into the back yard and settled onto the futon under the lanai, with schnauzers back and forth keeping me company. I got some solid work done on a little interim project: Five Nights with John Winchester**. ("Interim" meaning that I know I have other projects to do, none of which is quickening in the slightest.) It's five segments, which technically could be stand-alones...five different women at five different times in John's life.
I've got laundry spinning in the dryer. When that's done, I'm going to take myself out for a stroll on the beach. The weather is just gorgeous, clear and balmy, and the location is one of the things I really enjoy about coming over here.
Why don't I just go now? Because in my infinite wisdom, while I was packing, I thought, hey, I'm taking some laundry to do, there's enough stuff in there that I'll have plenty of clothes to get me through tomorrow and Sunday. Which would've been fine, if I'd done the damn laundry last night, but I never claimed to have my act together....
** I have been influenced by the company I keep. I kept writing "Winchester" and leaving out the "h"....
.
Because I am on the computer from hell, I am not attempting to write anything on it. No, not a good idea. Because, if I spent hours and hours composing something incredible, and had this piece of shit devour it, well, I'd go totally postal and S would come home to find her computer beaten to death and "REDRUM" written all over in the blood from my wounded fists.
Instead, I took some paper on a clipboard out into the back yard and settled onto the futon under the lanai, with schnauzers back and forth keeping me company. I got some solid work done on a little interim project: Five Nights with John Winchester**. ("Interim" meaning that I know I have other projects to do, none of which is quickening in the slightest.) It's five segments, which technically could be stand-alones...five different women at five different times in John's life.
I've got laundry spinning in the dryer. When that's done, I'm going to take myself out for a stroll on the beach. The weather is just gorgeous, clear and balmy, and the location is one of the things I really enjoy about coming over here.
Why don't I just go now? Because in my infinite wisdom, while I was packing, I thought, hey, I'm taking some laundry to do, there's enough stuff in there that I'll have plenty of clothes to get me through tomorrow and Sunday. Which would've been fine, if I'd done the damn laundry last night, but I never claimed to have my act together....
** I have been influenced by the company I keep. I kept writing "Winchester" and leaving out the "h"....
.
