"It's these expressions I never give..."
I'm tired this morning. Not the sort of tiredness that comes of not sleeping. It's a sort of tiredness that comes of looking back over my shoulder. I've actually been sleeping marginally better, with the help of Seroquel (night before last) and pot (night before last and last night). Six hours. Maybe six and a half hours. I need seven or eight. But I'll take six. I'm still watching the sunrise. It's a grey and lifeless thing, here in the urban desolation of western Providence; here, sunrise seems like AstroTurf and fluorescent bulbs.
It isn't a promise. It's only a defeated sigh.
Currently, it's mostly cloudy and chilly, 58˚F with only four days remaining before May. There's a spray of green in the trees now, but with the cold weather still hanging on, it isn't much help.
I've rescheduled a call from my lit agent from this afternoon to Wednesday. Today, we need to head to the storage units and run a few other errands. Tomorrow, I'm going to see Alex Garland's Ex Machina.
Please have a look at the current eBay auctions, and especially the copy of the 2013 Bram Stoker Award/World Horror Convention Souvenir Book that's up. This is the only one of these that I'll ever auction, and it includes the first print appearance of "And the Cloud That Took the Form," along with a reprint of "In the Dreamtime of Lady Resurrection." Obviously, it can be signed and personalized to the winning bidder. The auction ends in a few hours. This is the souvenir book for the year that I was Guest of Honor (New Orleans) and also received the Bram Stoker Award for The Drowning Girl: A Memoir.
Geoffrey came over yesterday afternoon and stayed late. Geoffrey is my tenuous link to the Outside, so far as contact with actual, living human beings is concerned. It was a good evening. We talked. We watched the new episode of Game of Thrones.
And I need to answer more email and get dressed.
Later Taters,
Aunt Beast
It isn't a promise. It's only a defeated sigh.
Currently, it's mostly cloudy and chilly, 58˚F with only four days remaining before May. There's a spray of green in the trees now, but with the cold weather still hanging on, it isn't much help.
I've rescheduled a call from my lit agent from this afternoon to Wednesday. Today, we need to head to the storage units and run a few other errands. Tomorrow, I'm going to see Alex Garland's Ex Machina.
Please have a look at the current eBay auctions, and especially the copy of the 2013 Bram Stoker Award/World Horror Convention Souvenir Book that's up. This is the only one of these that I'll ever auction, and it includes the first print appearance of "And the Cloud That Took the Form," along with a reprint of "In the Dreamtime of Lady Resurrection." Obviously, it can be signed and personalized to the winning bidder. The auction ends in a few hours. This is the souvenir book for the year that I was Guest of Honor (New Orleans) and also received the Bram Stoker Award for The Drowning Girl: A Memoir.
Geoffrey came over yesterday afternoon and stayed late. Geoffrey is my tenuous link to the Outside, so far as contact with actual, living human beings is concerned. It was a good evening. We talked. We watched the new episode of Game of Thrones.
And I need to answer more email and get dressed.
Later Taters,
Aunt Beast