Day Sixty-Two

This makes the ninth Monday of my unemployment. When you count by Mondays it doesn't seem so long. I guess if it goes on a lot longer I can count by alternate Mondays. Or something.

They're painting the floors outside my apartment, and the paint just smells like ass. I hate to invoke the smell of ass when it's not necessary, but trust me, in this case it's necessary. I can't step outside the door without almost wretching in disgust. I really hope it dries by the morning.

I didn't really follow through on my whole "get started doing something by noon every day" mantra, seeing as how I was more or less docile until about 1:30, when I finally went for a walk. I came back around 4, and then Robert was home early from school/work, so we went to the Coffee Bean to get some work done. I hammered out a few more pages on the play, and I feel a little better about it than I did yesterday. I'm still not entirely sure that it won't end up being a major embarrassment to playwrightkind, but even if it is, hey, I never really wanted to write plays anyway, so there.

While waiting for my laundry to launder (between the hours of about 11:30 PM and 1 AM), I watched You Can Count On Me for, oh, maybe the fifth time. It's still one of the awesomest movies ever, and while "awesomest" may not be a word yet, when it becomes a word I think the first thing it should be used for is to describe this movie. Or maybe to describe Trader Joe's Belgian Chocolate Pudding. Either way I'd be happy.