Word to the wise: when deciding to be manly (dumb) and build yourself a flatpack desk with all sorts of nooks and shelves and castors THAT YOU PUT ON THE WRONG WAY OVER AND OVER AND OVER FOR THE LOVE OF BABY MOSES try not to begin on or after midnight, because
a) you won’t finish. Pathetically, you won’t even get close
b) that movie you said you were going to talk about so you wouldn’t break your new (incredibly dumb) rule of “2 posts a day!”? You’re not going to do it, and
c) Your hands will be so, so sore when you finally do decide to pack it and hit the sack. More sore than they usually are ten minutes after you get into bed, which makes things problematic.
Too far? Too far. I’m getting a kind of ‘old habits’ vibe from this one, so I better sign off.
We’ll talk Stoker tomorrow (today), then. Well, I guess I’ll be doing most of the talking. You’ll just stare into your tea and passive-aggressively suggest changing the subject every paragraph break.
And we used to have such good conversation, you and I.