Wishful thinking

Goodness, it was hot today. Luckily, we've managed to wheedle Pop into buying us an air conditioner, so I sat in front of it with my laptop plugged into an extension cord to prevent the circuit-breakers from activating. Our house has more crossed wiring than the Millennium Falcon.

I wrote a little - about half another post, my daily drabble, and some other little character sketches - but mostly I read. I'm halfway through Moby-Dick again. I love Starbuck. He gets so screwed over by Ahab. I don't want him to die. I think I'll write an alternative ending where he, Ishmael, Queequeg, and Stubb all survive. Or maybe I'll just read up until the three Chase chapters and stop there. Sometimes I want to believe that the people I care about live through the whirling vortex of death. No one deserves to suffer for someone else's obsession.

Some random guys hit on me on the Metro today. I hate when people do that, because there's no way to move away from them on a packed car. I gave them my best You come any nearer and I will personally kick your ass glare, which shut them up, but it was still annoying to know they were watching me. I suppose I could always have pulled out my handy nickel-plated pen and poked them if they'd gotten too close for comfort. Writers always have weapons at hand.

So yeah, not much to report. Another un-ode-worthy day. Bad choice of words. Now I'm going to have to write an Ode to Tuesday. Bad ode bunny!

( 7 - Almost Normal )