I have people order stuff and cancel all the time--a distressing number of times, actually--and today was no exception. EXCEPT that the buyer immediately emailed and apologized, explaining their mistake. And as far as I could tell, they weren't even lying. That's pretty refreshing.
My Uncle John came over to my mom's for Sunday dinner, and he kept saying the name of the guy from One Direction over and over and over ag-- No, not that one, the one with the ridiculous name.
Nials Horan.
He also said something I ought to write about (if I remember) because it was really odd (in a different way). We'll see if I remember.
If I had a dollar for every time John said "Niles Horan," I could pay off all my credit cards. But the strange thing is, the first five or six times he said it, it was funny. But the next dozen or so, it was no longer funny. But once he reached about fifteen times, it became funny again. Say it with me, Niles Horan. See?
Am I right, or what?
Oh shoot, I just looked him up. It's Niall Horan, singular. Niles Horan was funnier (and what my uncle kept saying). Darn.
Sit-ups Today: 111 (yay!)
Sit-ups In April: 1111 (wow)
I fell asleep again today, and it was almost exactly as long as I did yesterday. I had started editing the next "Delusions of Grandeur" episode, and made it to about one minute-thirty before losing consciousness, which really bodes well for how entertaining it will be for our three listeners. I got up and forced myself to go over to the park (which is so close to where I live you could start a song in the driveway and finish it in front of the stream that goes alongside the park.*
I sat down in almost exactly the same place as yesterday and wrote about as much as I did then, but it's fifteen degrees colder today, and my hands started getting too cold to type, and I had to stop (I'm now in the car, where it's warmer, my hands still not quite defrosted, thinking I ought to run by Target before I head home, or I could hurry and get my sweats on and do my run while the sun is still out for a change).
There were still a lot of people hanging around the park, mostly families, but one solitary guy in a winter jacket reading a book under a tree. While I was sitting there, only managing four hundred mediocre words, I heard a little girl exclaim, "Oh, that's so sad!" and point at something in the stream. I couldn't see what it was, but I assumed it was a dead animal in the water.
When it was time to go, I took a look (and you can too), and it wasn't a dead cat or squirrel, but something less sad . . . yet somehow more disturbing.
I dunno if that was worth recording, but hey, I gotta blog about something.
Push-ups Today: 77
Push-ups In April: 1134
I thought I'd end the evening recording something, so I deleted two files from my recorder (two episodes' worth of lines from the audio drama I was cast in), but then never got around to recording anything (not that I know what it would've been--I need to find a story that I've never run on the Outcast and record it so I can do an episode for it). Maybe tomorrow night, Niles Horan.
Words Today: 463
Words In April: 6685
*I call it a stream because it's so little, but it's actually part of a river, and is large enough after snow melt that a child drowned in it in 2018 or so.
No comments:
Post a Comment