So, apparently, reading 500 pages of The Stand while alone in a creaky house is not a good idea, and will give you nightmares. Which is not particularly helpful when it is now Happy Happy Springtime Yay!, and the birdies in the tree a foot from the window at the head of your bed want to share their excitement about this, with you, at the quite literal crack of freaking dawn.
Just so you know. For future reference. 'Cause, yay!, it's springtime.
Which I am happy about, or would be, if I ever got to spend any time outside and it dried out a little and the wind died down just a touch. And someone would sell me some cheap women's hiking boots already. (That's it, I'm convinced, WI has taken some kind of secret communal oath. I don't know why, though I imagine it involves dairy products in some way, and ya know, I so very much don't want to know, as it turns out.)
Anyways, my supervisor is out of town for the week, so I'm "running things" or at least faking it pretty well. And reading Dorothy Sayers and watching Gilmore Girls to get
Randall Flagg out of my head already.