I felt a little more positive yesterday after doing my run. I thought about it, and figured that my nightly run is something that I have control over--it costs me nothing, I feel good afterward, and it's a mile and a half of listening to only songs I like (I turn it on Random, and running's like a box of chocolates). So I'll continue to do it, at least until I don't.
The whole family went up to the cabin today, and I had the option of going with them or staying home by myself. My cousin and I were planning to go to the movies tonight, so I was tempted to skip the overnight outing, but ultimately, I chose to drive one of the cars up and call him from the road. Turns out my cousin feels like sun-baked garbage today, so it looks like I made the right choice.
There were a lot of people on this weekend getaway. I have complained about the shrieking, screaming children next door or on the hill, but wow, I had no idea how good I had it. Isn't that one of the big lessons everybody learns in life: you don't know what you got till it's gone. Wish I knew the next line of that song, but it's hard to think at all with the kids running around, throwing things and/or fits, leaving the doors open or slamming them, making messes, complaining, crying, demanding food, or pretending that the room is filled with revenants.
My niece and her boyfriend came down as well, and at one point, they inflated my big canoe and took it out on the lake. After they came back to shore, I hopped in and rowed with Aaron (Cathexis's boyfriend) for a while, talking about the various Thomas Harris Lecter books. And when Aaron was bored of it/tired, I took the canoe around by myself, rowing to my lil heart's content.
Jeez, that reminds me: I haven't done any sit-ups today. Guess I'd better, considering literally everybody else here at the cabin has gone to bed, and it's only a matter of time before I start to yawn. You see, I got mighty sunburned out on the lake, as is not evidenced by this picture:
This photo, however, shows it a little better . . .
. . . and also shows something terrifying, if you look at the reflection in the window:
Yeah, it's just my niece yawning, but my Uncle Len would be sure to identify her as Old Mighty Satan himself.*
Anyway, I went out on the water for a while, then just laid back and closed my eyes, letting the lake's waves push me wherever they wanted. If I weren't absolutely miserable in my own skin, I think I would've really dug that moment, basking in a sunny July sky. Eventually, I rowed back to shore, and using an oar is a different kind of exercise, flexing different muscles than sit-ups or push-ups or sausage-stretching does. But probably in a good way.
There were so many people here at the cabin today: my mom and me, my sister's family, my brother, my niece and boyfriend, my Uncle Len and Aunt Virginia, my Uncle John's family, and my Cousin Chad and his daughter. Maybe not the biggest gathering we've ever had up here, but it's gotta be in the top two.
After it got dark, a bunch of us went out on the back deck to look up at the stars. I'm sure I've blogged about it before, but it is a spectacular view of the night sky up here with the only light pollution being campfires and other sporadic cabins. My Uncle John had an app on his phone that you could point at a section of sky and it would tell you what the constellations were, as well as stars and planets (both Jupiter and Saturn were visible in the sky at the same time!).
I was in awe of it, looking at how the Big Dipper became a bear on his phone, how you could see Perseus and Cancer and Taurus and Pisces and Clint Howard and other famous star formations. Of course, my Uncle Len started talking about Satan again, and those in the group that buy into that sort of nonsense decided the party was over. To spite them, I stayed out by myself for a couple of minutes more, listening to the sounds of the insects and birds, feeling the cool breeze, hearing the music of the night--Night time sharpens, by the way, it heightens each sensation. I find that darkness wakes and stirs imagination--until I too turned around and went back inside again.
The cabin is all made of wood planks and beams, so sound carries quite remarkably, whether that sound is someone walking around, someone filling the toilet, or a kid refusing to go to sleep. That being said, there are no excuses right now to keep me from writing or blogging or editing, all of which I should be doing right now.
So, this is gonna sound strange, but the whole day's writing is the love scene between Rick and Talia, the two teenaged protagonists of "Hatchling."** I stopped working on the story yesterday with Talia making some kind of veiled reference to tonight being The Night, and Rick being like, "Uh, really? Just for the sake of me being an idiot like Rish Outfield, you are talking about doing it with me, right?"
That's what you get after your ten thousand hours of writing, kids.
Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In July: 4,056
So, it's only 12:04am, but my head is starting to loll on my neck. I could close my eyes and be out in one minute. Part of it is the sunburn, but a bigger part is going with very little sleep Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. So, I think I'm going to do fifty more sit-ups, then either write a hundred more words, or just go to sleep.
You know, seven hundred words in one day doesn't seem like a lot, but when I'm sunburned, lonely, and tired, seven hundred words is quite an accomplishment.
Words Today: 722
Words In July: 23,899
*Shoot, I kid you not: I showed him the picture to see what he'd say, and he said, "Oh wow, it looks like Satan!" One-track mindboobs that guy's got.
**The same ones I described to you last week as thirteen and twelve. Yeah. I guess I'm one of those dudes that likes them pretty young, but even so, I can't imagine writing a sex scene between a twelve and thirteen year old. Ask me again in five years.
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