Life's kind of happening
Nasty weather we're having. Well, not nasty per se, but it's supposed to be spring. Everybody says 'Hurrah, spring finally came!'. But it very clearly didn't. I dislike February and March more than any other time of the year: these months feel like emptiness for me. Like a bad dream. I want real spring, not occasional snow and cold wind and dirtiness on the streets.
My father's in hospital; planned visit for checkups, and he's not unhappy there, and the hospital's not that bad, but... I hate hospitals. But then again, who likes them? They smell.
Somehow writing requires more brain activity from me than work. I guess it's good, since otherwise, what with being too braindead lately, I wouldn't be able to earn any money. But still: I want to write. However, to write I first need to think. Thinking... is hard.
Yuki seems to believe he's a dog: he's meeting everyone at the door. And I don't mean peeking out from somewhere when people come: I do mean at the door. Also, he's following me all over the flat. When I go to my mother's room where he's not allowed, he waits at the door until I come out.
I've read Labyrinth of Reflections by Sergei Lukyanenko and found it as flat as all the other books of his that I tried. Easy style, flat characters, lots of action scenes coupled with heavy moralizing.This one had interesting ideas but he did not develop them, opting for the same old things instead.
... I think I need some bookshopping to lift my mood, I do.
My father's in hospital; planned visit for checkups, and he's not unhappy there, and the hospital's not that bad, but... I hate hospitals. But then again, who likes them? They smell.
Somehow writing requires more brain activity from me than work. I guess it's good, since otherwise, what with being too braindead lately, I wouldn't be able to earn any money. But still: I want to write. However, to write I first need to think. Thinking... is hard.
Yuki seems to believe he's a dog: he's meeting everyone at the door. And I don't mean peeking out from somewhere when people come: I do mean at the door. Also, he's following me all over the flat. When I go to my mother's room where he's not allowed, he waits at the door until I come out.
I've read Labyrinth of Reflections by Sergei Lukyanenko and found it as flat as all the other books of his that I tried. Easy style, flat characters, lots of action scenes coupled with heavy moralizing.This one had interesting ideas but he did not develop them, opting for the same old things instead.
... I think I need some bookshopping to lift my mood, I do.