Run Down on the Run Up
I'm sleepy and it's just now midnight. I mean, what the hell? Stupid job draining all my goddamn energy.
I've barely written much on the book at all. I don't know where the weekend went to, but I expect I was sleeping an awful lot.
As for the Guided By Voices book, you can tell when I get a little nut of disposable income squirrelled away, because I can't wait to spend it before something awful happens that takes away my ability to spend it on something I'd enjoy. I don't even have time to be reading it right now anyway. I'm still making Proustian headway, but not on the bus, only when I wait for Sara after work.
Wanted: a job where I can sit in a cubicle and read. YOU pay ME to enjoy the classics of world literature in addition to autodidactically pursuing interests in all things that public education failed to elucidate (ie The Crimean War, Islam, city planning, etc.). Applicant has 5 years professional office experience, two degrees in reading and is working on a third. What do I do for you? Anything you could train a monkey to do, provided I'm given relative autonomy and a quiet place to work on my own thing.
Yesterday, I watched the first half of The Singing Detective miniseries and found it quite gripping. Three interesting stories all at once, all running over and bumping into each other, with Michael "Who's Dumbledore Now, Bitch?" Gambon as the titular detective. It's like that West Wing episode "Noel" but also a pulpy detective story but also a period piece about growing up the kid of coal miners. Oh, and a musical. Not in a Broadway showtune way, but in a feverish nightmare-dream way. No one's singing motivations, just covering old crooners with an occasional ironic lilt.
Sara looks cute in her glasses, to me.