Monday, August 15, 2022

A Good Morning Sunk Before Leaving Port

I woke slowly, thinking the day was set. I ate yogurt and an apple for breakfast. I watched a little news while letting this phone charge. I spoke with my sister about what is needed for the laptop. I confirmed the morning's doctor's is appointment. I went to the office for ice and came back with my first copy of The Indiana Review. I tuned into WFMU. I got an idea for a story involving AI and climate change. I was reading Josephine Baker Was the Star France Wanted—and the Spy It Needed from The New Yorker (I find Josephine Baker fascinating) when I got a call from Meridian Health rescheduling this afternoon appointment. Not good news, the PO wants this done and I cannot afford much more time off work. We could not find a suitable time. While writing this, I have come thought I should call back and take the Friday appointment. Grr. I switched to WXPN which is playing Raindrops Keep Falling. Who says irony is dead? Only those without a sense of humor. 


I see the counselor at 4 pm on Friday. 

I need to make some changes to my Masque of the Red Death so I can send it to the Yale Drama Series' 2023 playwriting competition. Why not? I have nothing lose. I cannot embarrass myself any more than I have already done these past 13 years.

So a break at 10:03 AM.

Almost 12 hours later, I got to the doctor (all is well) and my hair cut and my laundry done. Then I spent most of the day working on submitting Masque of the Red Death for a contest. I get to finishing off at Submittable and find out no adaptations. 

I have no more time for wasted days except for

I got through some posts for here. I did some reading to get all that done. I can say I made improvements to my Masque. So, not a complete loss. My eyes are tired; I call it a night.

Since KH mentioned Joe Strummer last night, I leave this with you:

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