Fridays

Today was kind of crazy. Picking and balancing photos of Octavia Butler, trying to get the last appreciations in (Harlan wrote some 2,200 words), tracking down unpaid invoices, and somehow never got to write a word. It's so glamorous, ain't it?

Speaking of glamour, saw the jet-setting Scott Westerfeld for an afternoon this week. He's a truly pleasant person, unfortunately Justine was wracked with wicked flu and couldn't join us. Someday we'll play that game of poker though. I'm onto MAGIC LESSONS by her, a delightful romp, as Mz. Carolyn would say.

So I'm getting some last bits o' work done, waiting for the hub (who's out drinking with buds and will return at some undetermined time) and having some mescal to cool the stress. Wishing someone would call and say "hey let's go do something crazy" but doubt it will happen. My going-out-all-the-time days have come and gone, and though I'm still rarin' to go and shake the world up, it's hard to find a good cohort these days.

Oop, must go save Roomba, who has been bested by the underneath of our living room chair. Yay for robotic vacuum cleaners, tho.
Toodles.