fufaraw

Well, that's been fun. Got my draft in, synopsis got posted, and was chosen by a lovely artist--I'm thrilled! And all will be revealed in the fullness of time...which is tapdancing for I forget when reveal date is, but I'm not sayin' nuthin' till I get the all clear.

Man, where does the time go? I swear somebody's siphoning off whole hours out of my day, and if I find the sucker I'ma kick his ass, and take it back.

I had migraine the other day--woke up with a headache, but then I often try to tunnel to China through my pillow while I'm sleeping and wake up with scrunchy face muscles. A hot washcloth compress usually puts me right, but it didn't get better, it got worse, despite a handful of OTC pain and decongestant and antihistamine pills--twice. Finally, I succumbed to the inevitable and crawled into bed in a dark room for a nap. Felt better on waking two hours later, but was dozey all evening, finally declaring defeat at 10PM. People, my regular bedtime is 2AM, and I'm often up anywhere until 4AM. So, bed at 10, woke up at 6:30 and took my pill (an hour before food or coffee, then an hour's nap. Do not expect me to be upright, lucid and civil without coffee), and slept till after 9AM. I don't remember the last time I slept that long. Usually my joints chase me out of bed after about six hours. Kicked that migraine to the curb, though. Little hangover, but it only lasted the day.

We bought slate patterned ceramic floor tiles to lay loose on the wire baker's rack shelves. They look damn fine. And I whitewashed the matchstick shade we hung behind the rack as a backing. It really looks good. I love improv.

It's a nice little bowery place to sit and read. I need to figure out how to hang a porch swing--the aluminum roof sure won't hold it.

All the pictures and reports from this past weekend's con have been marvelous. I would like to refer to Jared's new 'do as a samurai's topknot, though, rather than a manbun. Sounds like a masculine rabbit.

Sad about Robin Williams' death. Depression is a bastard, no lie. Well yes, actually, depression lies. And is a bastard.

I'm at the kill me now stage of a summer cold. Neighbor plays trombone with the Basie band, who had an NYC gig last week. Neighbor caught a cold on the subway and brought it to share over beers on our porch a few days ago. Thanks, fella. It's settled in my chest now, as colds always do, while also maintaining pretty steady sinus pressure. The hacking keeps me awake and grizzly from lack of sleep, plus throat isn't happy at all, at all.

With the windows open neighbor, his wife, and I all sound like an ungodly cough chorus. They should put it to music, or something.

Gahhhhh. Whiiiine. Okay, moar tea, and napping sitting up.

I hope all of you are well and engaged in happy, productive things. No, really, go on without me. I'll catch up.