Scrivner

Oh, to know everything at once and in that one moment and for employment thereafter be complete. 

 I HATE TRAINING!

Why, oh why then, am I the one most often chosen for this particular manure-moving task?  Is it my patient nature?  My carefully crafted words?  My large silver shovel?  These days I feel hardly Herculean in my stable cleaning feats of endurance and supervisor shuffling.  Honestly, is it really that hard to be polite?  To make pleasant chit-chat? To make small talk until another’s heart is content and their wallet strings loosed enough to sell them even more things they do not need?  Ah consumerism, you fill us as Chinese take-out – we are hungry again an hour later.

I am thinking of rewriting my story submission for the 3-Day from scratch.  In the next 8 days, I only work 2, hoo-lah-HEY! 

Must read The Scarlet Letter.  Must do homework.  Must, zzz.

Yes, that’d be me.  I have been spoiled with a Friday payday following vacation pay payout following another payday.  This Friday, no paycheck but still the urge to splurge!  I did happen to find a copy of The Scarlet Letter in a music store (fifth store looking) and a real cheap copy of Walk the Line. 

Joaquin, walkin’, Joaquin, walkin’.  Is it  I enjoy him far more than River?  I think it’s something about his cleft lip.  Might be his sing-songy name.  Could be he has higher paydays than me.

Read a little more Rant, read a little more Potter, did not read my homework at all but watched some of the movie, see above.  I think I remember this flick being better.  I am almost certain that Hawthorne won’t have Hester Prynne and the good minister getting funky in the barley granary.

Tomorrow terms the last day of my workaholic stint.  Must learn to control pocketbook.

Does it pay to be me?  In advanced reading copies….yes, it does!!!!

and the croci are bountiful (crocuses, maybe?).  Another room outside to clean as well as the innards. 

Good news, though, The Scarlet Letter is on the horizon and I’m hoping to make up the three weeks I’m lagging in Early American Literature by sailing through two novels in quick-ish succession and whip off some type of essay worthy of recycling.  In my malliable and inconsistent author rankings, I have moved Hawthorne and Melville far up the list.  (sidebar: finally finished “Bartleby, the Scrivner” yesterday.  The man is genius.)

Theory of the day: Harry and Voldemort are related.

Question of the day:  why does laundry day always arrive with the sun?

Interesting factoid of the day:  Rant (a Chuck book) is out early!! 

‘Nuff said on that subject.

After getting off the phone, I am rapidly putting down something meaningless and more than likely very boring.  Ah, life.

More strange dreams last night, all regarding Harry Potter.  I’m worried about this obsession I have with his tousled black hair.  Is Harry a Horcrux?  Will he die?  These mysteries soon to be revealed along with the question: why does The Donald (aka Trump) never get a haircut?  And why is he always yelling?

Also, in so-called reality TV:  go Yauman, go! and Hooray for Danny and Oswald, a non-elimination round!

Note to self: must get own reality and stop watching so much TV.

I had a dream the night before last that Margaret Atwood was zonked on my Salvation Army store couch and she DID NOT want to watch T.V.  She was lying face down and mostly talking to the floor but her words still had some of that firecrackery spit to them that I left the T.V. off.  I wasn’t too happy about it, though.

Last night, a dream of not succeeding at the 3-Day contest, per se, but managing well.  I suppose that’s all a writer can ask for, isn’t it?

(Does editing your blog site ever become less addicting?  Total minutes spent writing blog: 4 , total minutes spent editing blogsite: 129 .  Being just another voice in a multitudinous roar?  Priceless.)