Mid-evening verging on late evening, especially if I write at the glacial pace I seem to be setting for myself this evening. A fairly uneventful day, save for my hair dryer’s untimely demise this morning and a case of frowsy hat-hair all day. (I was delighted to discover, thanks to a kind and knowledgeable CVS employee who sang a little song as she led me through the aisles to the Promised Land of hair care appliances.)

I’m listening to the newish Mountain Goats record and Theo’s excessive scratching in his catbox. So far, this album is quirkily charming, with the great. funny/sad lyrics (”I hope our few remaining friends / Give up on trying to save us / I hope we come out with a failsafe plot / To piss off the dumb few that forgave us.”) more than mitigating John Darnielle’s reedy voice. I spent a good portion of the evening not cleaning, as I’d made myself promise I’d do when I got home, but watching “Six Feet Under” episodes and a rerun of Buffy.

Hm, should probably log off before it gets too late; I have the guilts for not having phoned D. last night and for not really wanting to talk to him tonight. That sounds cold, but it’s more like why bother, when we can’t be together until the weekend, always the weekend? Besides, I’ll probably be all tired and Miss Crankypants by now, I can feel it along the back of my skull.

I’m probably out of sorts because I’m not sure what to read next. I started that Fay Weldon book in which she tries to convince her airheaded niece to read Jane Austen (D.’s recommendation as a prelude to actually reading any Austen, an author whose work I’ve studiously avoided after having been burned by Bronte in high school), but it’s preachy and dry as scarab claws. I’m several chapters into the Susie Bright course in writing filthy nasty stories, but I find it hard to read that on the T in the morning. I have a ton of books I could start, but I’m all wifty and undecided, a state I hate.

All right, no getting around it — I’ll brush teeth and wash face and give D. a call, grumbliness be damned.

– editrix, who really should be making more use of her CD burner