ggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg
Got my car back today, and it wasn't as disastrous and my uncle feared. One of the wires that attaches to the battery was broken or frayed, and that was preventing the engine from starting. All in all, the repairs and towing cost less than the new battery I bought over the weekend.
That was nice. As part of my writing last night, I looked over the sketch I wrote in the fall for Renee Chambliss and me to do, called "Tiking and Toking," basically an old person's horror at what teen girls do on TikTok (God bless 'em). But I had abandoned it because it wasn't funny, just gross--talk of thirteen year olds shaking their passion fruits and showing off their thongs.
But I figured I could finish it if I could come up with an amusing twist at the end, and I basically had the wife and daughter find the dad disgusting for watching TikTok videos with his horny male coworkers. I don't imagine I would dare ask Renee to do it with me (I tend to hold her in this celebrity-I-happen-to-know pedestal in my mind), but if it sounds amusing to you, let me know, and maybe you and I can do it together.
Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In February: 2429
Buh.
Once again, I got so little work done, as far as writing goes. On the bright side, the sun goes down a minute or so later each day, and that gives me one more minute of solace before the tear vampires come calling.
I went to the library after having my mother take me to pick up my car (some things never change), but I managed very little writing. Mostly, I grabbed the file of my novella "Hatchling," and tried to see what condition it was in. Out of curiosity, I checked my emails to myself, and found two previous versions of "Hatchling" . . . that were different. One had twenty-four thousand words and one had twenty-two, but both had sections the other one was lacking. I realized it would take some serious concentration to get my three files sorted out . . . and then the library started flashing its lights.
I drove home and did both my sit-ups and my run, then headed south to meet my cousin so we could get dinner (a restaurant in his town now has dine-in options AND his niece works there, so we made it a point to get together earlier than we usually do).
We got to the point in watching "Seinfeld" together where the character of Puddy starts to show up. I've complained endlessly to my cousin about my burning hatred of Patrick Warburton, and he asked me (as he always does) why I hate him so.
Honestly, it's been a part of me for so long that I no longer even recollect why I so despise the man. It could be his voice. It could be the way he looks. It could be the time when I was eleven and he drowned my little brother at the Winnetka Recreation Center.
Push-ups Today: 55
Push-ups In February: 2209
When I got home, I wasn't particularly tired, so I sat down at my desktop and opened the three "Hatchling" files, then stayed up until 3:30am comparing the versions and saving them all into a master file called Hatchling (Amazon).doc. When I was done, I could barely concentrate (I had only managed 34 words, apparently, but I might not have been awake enough to accurately count them), but I saved the file and noticed the story is just over 38,000 words. That means, to my chagrin, that when I sit and record it, I'll have another novel on my hands. Kind of pleasing, if I do say so my tired self.
As this segment of the mid-life crisis winds itself down, I don't feel like I've accomplished much (I haven't done a hike in February despite saying I'd do one a month), but I saw a pair of rollerblades in my size at the discount store where I buy my envelopes. I can't afford a sportscar, due to my many, many, many bad life choices, but I am tempted to buy them and try out rollerblading, because my backside doesn't have enough marks on it, I suppose.
Words Today: 708
Words In February: 16,077
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