The Lovely Wife, more troubled in voice than I, had to go to work.
I stayed at home and resolutely ignored the fact that I was supposed to have a paper done by this evening. I figured I'd give some bullshit excuse and pass it off til tomorrow.
So it was I could experiment with Henry's levels of carrot insertion (Google it, maybe?) and work on some tapes of interviews I did with the translator of "Please Look After Mom." You can be an idiot if I interview you, but I will delete all interlocutory sounds.
Cause that's the law.
That's why.
Then the call came, late in the afternoon, that I couldn't bullshit to the next day. Two hours of hard grind at the laptop, and I had a defensible 2000 words to send off.
Call from The Big Publisher about a meeting, wife comes home says no way she's going, I go off to meeting, meeting good - I get invitation to his wedding, back home, my wife asleep, me nearly in coma...
And so there you are.... another Monday (or something like that to you), in the land of tomorrow!
1 comment:
success is really a bi&*h, isn't it?
love, ysm
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