rain

[dragonlady7]

and when they're out for blood
I always give.
ani di franco, pixie

Listening to a playlist I made in April. Contains a lot of songs I was listening to very heavily then. I made the playlist for one of our many trips to Buffalo. We were looking at apartments then. We knew we were going to move. I had been writing the novel for three months and sort of knew I wasn't going to finish it as I had intended.
The playlist is 123 songs long and was meant to last the entire trip. Did I mention that we timed one of our trips to Buffalo, taking notes and recording the time it was at each landmark? I don't think I ever posted the results. I might. There was something epic and yet familiar about driving diagonally across one of the larger states on the Eastern Seaboard, and recording almost every street sign we saw on the way (mostly such notables as Fishs Eddy and Bridgeville / So. Fallsburg, and of course the ever-present Future 86 signs) lends it a certain intimacy I think. Do recall that while it's a gorgeous drive, through the heights of the scenic Catskills and through some beautiful Southern Tier farmland, we usually made the drive in the dark, and in the dark, scenery is fucking boring. These street signs looming up out of the darkness were our landmarks, pearls on a big long string of Despair. (I wrote about The Despair in my blog, but had to disable comments on that entry because it got comment-spammed so heavily. [Oh, maybe I didn't disable comments. Well, I disabled comments on most of that blog, and daily, comment spammers find entries I missed in my purge of the comment box. Joys.])

I was awoken by the rain. I had been snuggling in Dave's bed-- perfect for a chilly night in an unheated house, and I might mention that he has a lovely feather duvet (he calls it a comforter, but I am just pretentious and European enough to insist that it's a duvet-- in Northern Europe, most places I was, they didn't use sheets the way we do in the U.S., but simply had a comforter with a cover that matched the fitted sheet, and that was all. Dave has adopted that system, and so have I-- fewer things to get tangled, and it doesn't get tucked in in the first place so there's nothing to come all untucked and slide off the bed and leave you freezing). So, despite the lack of bulk of boy to cuddle with (bigger isn't better, anyway, and skinny little boys can generate heat well enough), his bed is exceedingly cozy.
But the rain woke me, and I couldn't sleep, so I got out of bed (I wish the floors didn't creak. Dave has to be on the road to Rochester by 8:30 tomorrow a.m., and I hate to wake him. But he's like me-- wakes easily, but falls back asleep easily-- usually) and puttered into my room. I wanted to go out onto the screened-in porch (they call it a Florida room here) to watch the rain by the neighbor's never-turned-off, aimed-into-our-yard porch light, but realized that I couldn't without waking Dave again, so I decided against it.
So I resumed work on what I was writing when I went to bed, instead. I put on the iPod to listen to music with headphones, and threw on the first playlist that came up, saying to myself that I'd just work until the playlist ended.

Ha. See the beginning of the entry. Whoops. I'll have to come up with another stopping point...

On the bright side, Éomer and Faramir are bonding over bad, raunchy jokes. Which couldn't have happened on a nice night wherein I slept well.

I don't have insomnia, I just sleep in strange patterns. Works fine as long as I'm not working 9-5 Monday thru Friday. Why on earth does the world run 9-5 Monday thru Friday? That's retarded.
Oh well.

Comments

this is from kat

[(Anonymous)]

"Why on earth does the world run 9-5 Monday thru Friday? That's retarded."
I agree!
Since I work 3 p.m. to 11 p.m....while I never have to deal with rush-hour traffic, it is irritating that nothing is open at midnight. Wel, not nothing. But no movies, laser tag, bowling, etc. I can buy groceries and gas...and go to the emergency room. Or a bar. That's pretty much it.
Arggg.