Brekky at IHOP, where I wish I had some of those atheist business cards lying around so I could circle Matt 6:5 for the dudes loudly thanking heavenly Father for their sodding breakfast. As well thank the woman who brought it to them, I wonder if they’ll leave a tract instead of a tip? Such behaviour is apparently tiresomely common across the US.
Dinner tonight at Katie’s.
The cacti are all set up in the kitchen window now. I cleaned the window ledge out before I went to the Island, and now it feels prescient since we actually had enough room for them all, just barely, in what is the only decent window for the purpose in the house (we may move some into the south facing window in the living room, but we have to ensure that the cats can’t knock them over first.
I knocked over my manuscript for book II. I’m thinking of saying fuck it, since none of the pages are in order any more, and editing it in random chunks. I tried to take some advice about editing this morning and just ended up feeling worse; it didn’t help and I can’t imagine who it would help who wasn’t already loco.
As expected I’m stiff as a fricking board this morning. I always hurt worse the second day.