Cranky Bear in Midnight Blanket Pullout
It takes awhile to build up to this, the late hours, the electric blanket. Mainly 'cause I haven't written anything in this blog for a couple of days -- the last couple of days were rather ordinary, just me writing about movement & repose (Jesus teaching quantum physics?), save for last nite: Ed & Denise came over with some cake & ice cream (sherbet, actually), for a late birthday celebration for the Bumble Bee Girl & her sweet Pookie Bear. Sad to say, though, Denise told us that she's quitting her job at the Invisible Hospital -- but didn't say why... it's her business, I let it be. Apparently, Ed will try house painting for awhile, during the summer; Denise will start a job hunt in 3-4 weeks.
Then we watched TV when they left, around 9:00. After we went to bed, during the middle of the night, Trish rose like Dawn to use the crapper. I turned into Cranky Bear: I felt that she'd gotten up deliberately, just because I'd awakened a few moments earlier: delusions of reference; she really did have to go wetty (as my mother used to term it, while potty-training her children).
I feel so bad.
I'll make it up with pancakes or toasted frog.
It may rain today; it's been raining here & cool for the last few days; supposedly (if you believe the forecast) will be, continuing thru-out Memorial Day weekend. I just hope Trish can be convinced to walk to work thru the rain without using up too many taxi tickets, ergo, when I have TA today (assuming she doesn't change her plans) I'll ask Car-girl to take me to the Invisible Pizza Hut for a Diet Pepsi & possibly a salad bar. Then, during Trish's hour, the 2 can go out to the Invisible Wally World & pick up 50 buckadingdongs worth of groceries.
Today I might write a few letters, like I did for Trish's mom yesterday -- since Stan Schmidt noticed that my printer was malfunctioning, I've needed to print up a few things, to make sure it is, indeed, fixed. Trish couldn't find any errors while reading her mother's letter, though.
Also, I don't think I'll Critter "Galaxies" another time. I feel sufficiently under-control to go ahead & finish the rewrite without their help, especially since I'm facing a formidable 4-week chunk of mss. coming up next week. If Stan bounces it, I may or may not rework it, though I have no idea who'll be interested if Analog rejects it: some Critter suggested that it might work for F&SF, but I doubt it. I mean, they're not well known as a market for hard science fiction. Asimov's isn't famous as a market for stories about starship sailors lighting up OOBE-doobies & in general getting "sloppy" & go frak yourself, Flying Fruit-bat, I don't care what you thought of the "unbelievable science", you've lost touch with reality -- & where the hell was Bingle when we needed him last Saturday?
Then we watched TV when they left, around 9:00. After we went to bed, during the middle of the night, Trish rose like Dawn to use the crapper. I turned into Cranky Bear: I felt that she'd gotten up deliberately, just because I'd awakened a few moments earlier: delusions of reference; she really did have to go wetty (as my mother used to term it, while potty-training her children).
I feel so bad.
I'll make it up with pancakes or toasted frog.
It may rain today; it's been raining here & cool for the last few days; supposedly (if you believe the forecast) will be, continuing thru-out Memorial Day weekend. I just hope Trish can be convinced to walk to work thru the rain without using up too many taxi tickets, ergo, when I have TA today (assuming she doesn't change her plans) I'll ask Car-girl to take me to the Invisible Pizza Hut for a Diet Pepsi & possibly a salad bar. Then, during Trish's hour, the 2 can go out to the Invisible Wally World & pick up 50 buckadingdongs worth of groceries.
Today I might write a few letters, like I did for Trish's mom yesterday -- since Stan Schmidt noticed that my printer was malfunctioning, I've needed to print up a few things, to make sure it is, indeed, fixed. Trish couldn't find any errors while reading her mother's letter, though.
Also, I don't think I'll Critter "Galaxies" another time. I feel sufficiently under-control to go ahead & finish the rewrite without their help, especially since I'm facing a formidable 4-week chunk of mss. coming up next week. If Stan bounces it, I may or may not rework it, though I have no idea who'll be interested if Analog rejects it: some Critter suggested that it might work for F&SF, but I doubt it. I mean, they're not well known as a market for hard science fiction. Asimov's isn't famous as a market for stories about starship sailors lighting up OOBE-doobies & in general getting "sloppy" & go frak yourself, Flying Fruit-bat, I don't care what you thought of the "unbelievable science", you've lost touch with reality -- & where the hell was Bingle when we needed him last Saturday?
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