If I was a guy...

It’s Friday and who doesn’t feel good about a Friday? I’d feel better if I knew if I was driving up north to ride colts tonight, but we can’t have everything. I got a lot of plotting done yesterday, not very much text, but a lot of what happens where, when, and why. For me, the how it happens is the text, so I’m trying to get to that this weekend. If I just knew what a train ride was like I’d be all set. I also did a lot of research on shamanism and mental control for magic, so meditation and chakra points. Hey, I still think the tractor research was a lot more interesting, but I gotta go where the book tells me to. Or rather, where Taylor tells me to. She’s a demanding bitch. Good thing one of us is.

Started off slow again today, just like yesterday, only for different reasons. Last night, Dad, Bruce, and I gave up on cooking and went the local watering hole for dinner. Of course, profuse amounts of beer later and I still have a headache this afternoon. When I got up this morning, just after 7, I thought Dad was already up and gone, but the coffee pot was cold and his truck was still in the driveway. Lo and behold, I looked over while making cereal and yogurt (quite a complicated gourmet feat, I tell you what) and there’s a lump still in Dad’s bed. It’s unheard of this man to be in bed after 7 a.m. I don’t think he felt that good, but my ego got a boost and I could quit calling myself a good-for-nothing loser for a few minutes. Hard on myself? Moi?

So I got to the store, took thirty dollars in beer cans (and two pop cans) back, and made it back home in an hour and a half. Now I’m trying to settle in for an afternoon of writing, or at least working until I hear whether I got colts to ride. Then I’ll be doing laundry and packing like a manic. Or is that Maney-ic? Oh well. ;-) Happy days.