unexpected day off
...after fixing Trish her normal, sumptuous breakfast of pancakes, she walked to work -- but Say Bra had rescheduled her days off; Trish has to put in extra hours 'cause of her vacation coming up.
After she walked all the way home, complete with luncheon sandwich from IGA, she wanted to nap. I surfed the darkening seas; no real luck until just before lunchtime; whoever it was, got off there fast, so instead we wrote notes & messages before Trish tackled her deli-thingy & I my beans on toast. Trish got a little toasted at the accident, but is definitely beyond the point where I'd been forced into separation.
I worked some more on TC, striving to develop the alien scenes. It might be just what Stan's looking for; all I ever get out of F&SF is a form with my name typed into it.
Trish performed a modicum of cleaning, then we set out to watch Battlestar Galactica -- Trish picked up season 2.0 at the Invisible vid-store on Friday.
After supper -- leftover chow mein which I took out of the deep freeze the day before -- I surfed Hot or Not for a bit, came up with the ideal woman -- & she left us after we didn't start to cyber soon enough. Like pulling a Maxine, one must be careful not to boot their partners out of bed & put one's clothing back on: she flies so high, she swoops so low...
...Kimothy Leery has been perpetually blasted into outer space; some form of detritus. Though it'd be a faster way to fix the problem than chatting with people you'll never meet.
I slept all nite. Beat the alarm clock by about 1/2 hour, then started my standard Internet stuff. As you can see, save for hypomanic hypersexuality, I've returned to NORML.
Now all I need is some of that medical marijuana. If the Hinchey-Rohrabacher amendment ever makes it thru the House -- the lunatic is on the grass...
After she walked all the way home, complete with luncheon sandwich from IGA, she wanted to nap. I surfed the darkening seas; no real luck until just before lunchtime; whoever it was, got off there fast, so instead we wrote notes & messages before Trish tackled her deli-thingy & I my beans on toast. Trish got a little toasted at the accident, but is definitely beyond the point where I'd been forced into separation.
I worked some more on TC, striving to develop the alien scenes. It might be just what Stan's looking for; all I ever get out of F&SF is a form with my name typed into it.
Trish performed a modicum of cleaning, then we set out to watch Battlestar Galactica -- Trish picked up season 2.0 at the Invisible vid-store on Friday.
After supper -- leftover chow mein which I took out of the deep freeze the day before -- I surfed Hot or Not for a bit, came up with the ideal woman -- & she left us after we didn't start to cyber soon enough. Like pulling a Maxine, one must be careful not to boot their partners out of bed & put one's clothing back on: she flies so high, she swoops so low...
...Kimothy Leery has been perpetually blasted into outer space; some form of detritus. Though it'd be a faster way to fix the problem than chatting with people you'll never meet.
I slept all nite. Beat the alarm clock by about 1/2 hour, then started my standard Internet stuff. As you can see, save for hypomanic hypersexuality, I've returned to NORML.
Now all I need is some of that medical marijuana. If the Hinchey-Rohrabacher amendment ever makes it thru the House -- the lunatic is on the grass...
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