another euthymic Monday

So we've come at last to a Monday, where (perhaps) I am euthymic. For the past couple of days, I thought maybe I had become depressed over "Galaxies". I have struggled so hard to be published professionally, the few credits I have are anti-credits, & at this point, Analog soliciting my submissions aside, I really feel like "Galaxies", too, will come back with a personal slip that really won't do much in the way of fine-tuning it. I have planned, though, to send it thru Critters if/when it's rejected, to see what's "wrong" with it, & put up with some of the idiocy coming from teenage D.A.R.E. brats who are flunking science -- & English. After that, assuming they're still open, Baen's Universe, followed by Orson Scott Card's Intergalactic Medicine Show -- though both these markets have, so far, sent back nothing but forms.

It won't be. It'll never happen. I've spent 30 years, struggling, it always is returned as useless (save for the anti-credits) -- & even with a page of insults out of Andromeda Spaceways, albeit the dildo who wrote the reply didn't know a goddamn thing about science or philosophy -- or diplomacy -- & will be an easy target for the Invisible Hog, if he ever comes out of retirement.

So yeah, I'm just sitting around here, waiting for disappointment. Never mind that Bill Veeder compared my early writing to Shakespeare, unless the Hinchey Amendment passes, & President Gas doesn't veto it, I no longer have the weed to carry on.

I seem to be functioning OK, otherwise. Bumble Bee Girl had the day off Sunday, so all we did was sit around & watch DVDs, for the most part. We ate lunch at El Taco Loco, came home, & Trish went downstairs to curl her gorgeous hair, while I stayed upstairs for a bit, in order to do a couple more paragraphs of Noc-Lar. I'm trying to do it as a sort of medieval (LOTR) society with alternate universe dimensions, also part Conan/sword-&-sorcery stuff. Some of it is coming out of Critters -- I can blow these stories up on MS-Word 97 (a program I use for little else) so I can actually read them & look for the "formulas". My greatest weakness & my greatest strength is writing against formula. Ellison gets away with some minor violations of the "rules", which are lauded at awards ceremonies, but are usually lacking in anything truly innovative: his knowledge of English is as bad as his knowledge of science.

Trish & I split a No-Bake for supper last nite, watched the Invisible cable for awhile (tomorrow we get cable down in the basement! I need my eyes excited!), then I ate a Viagra, though this particular time, it didn't work so well. Although I'm able to satisfy Trish, the difficulties achieving an orgasm are so great that I really feel I need to be off the Risperdal.

We see Doc Larocque the 2nd. It should be real atomic.