Un Peu of Unfocused Codswallop from a Man Up Past His Bedtime
Great. Now Mama Dog has me paranoid that I’ve made everybody else paranoid by talking about my information gathering habits vis-à-vis the hit tracker. Don’t worry. I won’t stalk you. I just like to be able to go, “Hey Lisa’s reading. She must have finally gotten the Lego out of the CD drive.” Or, “Oh, Ambrose is looking in at work. Guess he hasn’t been fired yet.” And so forth.
My chore scorecard for the weekend so far: Sprang into action after breakfast. Got the swing disassembled – Baby Dog outgrew it a while back, and it’s already a bit too infantile for her – and hauled down to the basement. Lowered the mattress on the crib – again, because she’s gotten bigger and is starting to develop greater mobility. It’s not like she’s ready to try climbing out yet, but there’s no telling how soon that will come. Looked in the basement in the logical pile of papers for ol’ paul S’ $10 from last year, and didn’t find it. I have to conclude that I never stashed it away, so I’ll just be making it up out of pocket. Got my freelance work done. Finally read that article in The Believer that I linked to in the last post (although I read it offline in the actual magazine).
Mama Dog took Baby over to the Pirates’ house for the afternoon so that I could get some writing done. Instead I got the dishes put away and updated by freelance invoice. Transcribed a couple of paragraphs I jotted down on BART a couple weeks back, but couldn’t’ make myself focus. Finally, I took the dog out for a walk and that did the trick. I don’t know what it is about walking the dog, but it make something in my brain click into place to allow creative thought. By the time I got home I had the structure of the story worked out pretty fully, if not the actual plot. All I’m trying to get done this weekend is an outline, so it’s really a better start than it sounds.
I think, believe it or not, that I might be getting sick again. I never get sick twice in a row. I’ve been feeling dizzy today, my throat’s sore, my head hurts, and I’m tired as hail. I should have posted earlier when I was more up to snuff, but I didn’t, so here you go. Time for me to go rest my brain. Good night.
My chore scorecard for the weekend so far: Sprang into action after breakfast. Got the swing disassembled – Baby Dog outgrew it a while back, and it’s already a bit too infantile for her – and hauled down to the basement. Lowered the mattress on the crib – again, because she’s gotten bigger and is starting to develop greater mobility. It’s not like she’s ready to try climbing out yet, but there’s no telling how soon that will come. Looked in the basement in the logical pile of papers for ol’ paul S’ $10 from last year, and didn’t find it. I have to conclude that I never stashed it away, so I’ll just be making it up out of pocket. Got my freelance work done. Finally read that article in The Believer that I linked to in the last post (although I read it offline in the actual magazine).
Mama Dog took Baby over to the Pirates’ house for the afternoon so that I could get some writing done. Instead I got the dishes put away and updated by freelance invoice. Transcribed a couple of paragraphs I jotted down on BART a couple weeks back, but couldn’t’ make myself focus. Finally, I took the dog out for a walk and that did the trick. I don’t know what it is about walking the dog, but it make something in my brain click into place to allow creative thought. By the time I got home I had the structure of the story worked out pretty fully, if not the actual plot. All I’m trying to get done this weekend is an outline, so it’s really a better start than it sounds.
I think, believe it or not, that I might be getting sick again. I never get sick twice in a row. I’ve been feeling dizzy today, my throat’s sore, my head hurts, and I’m tired as hail. I should have posted earlier when I was more up to snuff, but I didn’t, so here you go. Time for me to go rest my brain. Good night.
posted by PapaDogDuvalier | 10:42 PM
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