I. love. Pandora.
My brother Tim laughed at me over the phone a couple days ago, "You know that's been out for like, five years?" he said.
Yesterday I started writing around as soon as I posted my blog and didn't stop until about eight o'clock at night. I ate a bologna sandwich for lunch and didn't even bother with the mayo. I didn't even go jogging. I didn't make dinner; Keith wasn't hungry and neither was I.
By the time I got up from the desk, my back was on fire, all up my spine and down into my ribs. I've never felt anything like it. But I didn't feel any pain while I was typing.
I went from forty pages to seventy nine in a day.
And I still had stuff going on in my head when I forced myself to stop. I had entire ghost conversations while at the same time trying to focus on moving plans with Keith.
"I rode with the swans to the house of Sol Invictus and I spoke with him. He was very nice."
"If we rent a twenty four foot box truck from..."
"Very nice? He was very nice? Do you know that you spoke with a god?"
"On the other hand, we'll need a car dolly if you end up driving the HD..."
"Yes, a merry god, just as Alona said."
"...and if we change our plans, we can get our money back up to forty eight hours before we're scheduled for pick up. Jenny? Jenny, are you listening?"
"And this is from her, by the way."
"Ow! What the hell! What did I ever do to her?"
I have a hard time getting to sleep lately. I'm a little nervous to reread it, I was plowing through everything so damn quickly. Now I can go back and fill in. It's going to rain, I think I'll go out for a jog before it does, get some fresh air before going over all that material.
