Still Life with Problems
May 14, again
And in other news...
Yesterday I did manual labor for most of the day, which does not agree with Tim the Amazing Couch Jockey; lugging boxes to and fro, lifting a large television up and down, carrying a piano bench (though mercifully not a piano) hither and yon. Very exhausting. Got home, rested a bit, then went to see Kelly Link and Shelley Jackson read at Moe's books in Berkeley. Very pleasant; the usual suspects were there. Kelly read bits from "Shoe and Marriage", which strikes me as a very good choice for a reading -- self-contained bits of a larger narrative. Makes me want to write something similar. (Recently reading Ellison's "The Man Who Rowed Christopher Columbus Ashore" created the same desire)
Afterward, Heather and I got dinner at Raleigh's pub -- good food, and we sat outside and had beer, and it was lovely. She drove home, and on the way her rearview mirror fell off (this will be important later). Then home, where I answered the list of questions posted in the last entry, and read a bit, and that's all.
This morning began inauspiciously and got worse. Here's what happened, lifted verbatim from the e-mail I sent Heather about it:
"Some days it would be better just to hide under the covers... after you left I decided I could be 10 minutes late, so I shaved -- and cut myself in four places, one rather bad. Staunching my wounds with toilet paper for that festive incompetent look, I hurried out to my car and zoomed workward. As I got off the freeway for Montclair, my car began to make an incredibly godawful noise, and to shake violently. I managed to pull over fairly soon, and got out to discover that my front passenger-side tire had popped (this is what happens when you never rotate your tires, kids! it was worn way down, but on the inside, where I couldn't see it until I got the tire off). I luckily had all the necessary equipment -- rusty old jack, some blocks for the tires, and Mr. Tetanus, the Happy Tire Iron. I jacked up the car, and the jack promptly started to fall over; I managed to arrest the movement, crank it down again, and set the jack more carefully on the lumpy, uneven asphalt. The second time, I got it jacked up, got off the falling-apart tire, and put on the little rubber doughnut that serves as my spare tire. Sigh, sigh, sigh... Keep your eyes out for tire sales..."
Oh, and that doesn't even mention the enormous pimple I have right on the end of my nose. Right on the tip, like a little blinking light! So I was feeling hideous anyway this morning.
And let's not forget those jerkholes at the Post Office, who've been sending back mail addressed to Star*Line... I turned in the form to tell them I'd be getting organizational mail earlier this week; let's hope that remedies the situation... If anyone needs to send me anything via snail mail, send me e-mail, and I'll give you my home address.
Work at least wasn't bad; I got quite a lot done, almost caught up, actually. I drove home carefully, slowly, because the little temporary spare is not muy forte. Heather came home shortly after, and we talked about my options, since I can't afford to get new tires until this weekend. Public transit isn't a good option -- it'd take an annoyingly long time to get to work that way, I'd have to take a couple of buses, etc. I could keep driving my car, 15 miles a day... but the little doughnut is not meant for such things; it's just supposed to let you drive to the gas station to get a real tire. Or, I can drive Heather's car, which is big, has bad brakes, and now lacks a rearview mirror (or, actually, it has a rearview mirror -- lying right there on the front seat!). That seems the best option, so I'll be borrowing her car for a few days. I'll have to get used to the touchy brakes, and I'll stay off freeways, but it should be okay (knock on wood).
I did have some good news, though; I sold two poems to Asimov's today, "Still Life with Frog" and "Destination" (and in the acceptance letter I got a genuine Gardner Dozois Funny Anecdote, about something one of my poems reminded him of -- extra cool). La and stuff. So I was in a better mood. Despite my radioactively glowing nose.
The only plans tonight are: Watch Buffy! Eat pizza! Be at peace!
Words written since February 1, 2002: 66,850
Words written since last entry: Well, none -- but the last entry was just posted like two minutes ago!
Send me a black hole. In a thermos. Or a tire.
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