Day After Dain Breath

Day After Dain Breath

Yeesh – the last line my previous entry?  I don’t have a clue what I was trying to say.  I’d taken sleeping pills and my brain on sleeping pills is mush.  I remember I INTENDED to ruminate on the various versions of the afterlife.

In the aftermath of that particular bloody intellectual abortion, I’ll let things rest a bit before attempting any new rambles on the subject.

My oldest son has iPad envy, and is trying to wheel and deal for a trade. I’m more than amenable if the trade is for a laptop.  I enjoyed my expensive little prize for a few days, but there’s only so far you can take Angry Birds before you’re sick and tired of them.  As my son put it, an iPad is a very expensive toy.  I’m way past the expensive toy stage.  He both wants it for its toy element and also because he genuinely needs it for his job.  I want something that’s viable for writing from wherever I am in the house (or on the road, if that’s called for). #1 Son doesn’t have the laptop yet, but if I know him he’ll find a way to make it happen.

I sure hope he does.  I’m way ready to make the trade.  I had been trying to decide if it was worth it for me to invest in a bluetooth keyboard, and dreading it because it STILL wasn’t the laptop I wanted.  So yeah, this would be a perfect solution for us both if he can make it happen.

Since the daughter and grandson were here ALL WEEKEND, I got pretty much no writing done.  I sat down with the best of intentions earlier today.  Unfortunately my stress levels were so elevated I couldn’t function on any viable level.  Bleh!  I did accomplish one thing, something that didn’t really need brainpower to do.  I designed my cover.  Plugging it in as a widget at right, pending the update to a “published” status sooner or later.  Considering the antiquated monstrosity I’m using to enter this post, and the fact that it’s prone to munching caches and regurgitating them at will, God knows when my changes will show up for me.

G and I told that child unit that this revolving door is hereby locked.  In a medical emergency she can call.  Otherwise, since she has elected to continue her ongoing drama with her chosen asshole… er, significant other… they have to work it out.  Mom’s not going to rescue her butt at o’dark thirty in the morning again next time the asshole chooses drunken stupidity.  He promised her he wouldn’t drink again.  She believed him.  I told her Day One when I met him that he was her dad’s reincarnated attitude.  She’ll learn sooner or later.  I hope it’s BEFORE he fucks up her life to the degree that her dad fucked up mine.

Gah – my antivirus has rendered this computer nearly useless so guess I’ll sign off for the night.  Besides which, the weather service has teased us with the promise of rain.  If it actually materializes should be soon, and will necessitate turning this puppy off for a few hours.  Another point in favor of turning this thing off?  I’ve finally gotten around to picking up a couple of Dean Koontz books.  Back in the day when I was still writing suspense (vs. the fantasy dreck that won’t let me be) I was compared to this writer in my way with twists and turns of a page . Back in the era of the X-Files, which is what got me online in the first place, I wrote fan fiction.  I was among the few whose fan fiction was NOT “shipper”, aka all about sex and lurve and the wish fulfillment Mary Jane approach.  I attempted to write in the same creepy, tongue-in-cheek voice as the show, which was to me the whole idea of using established characters to put your story into words.  It was close enough that more than one person accused me of being a moonlighting screen writer, heh.

Having once more veered completely off the subject, and my computer becoming increasingly more obnoxious in its demands to lock up, I’m outta here.  Ciao for now!


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