There's work to be done this week, and a lot of it. Two critical analyses are due for publication. So, for the first time in recent history, I'm in bed at a good time. Sure, there are a few out there who probably think that 1 AM is not a good time, but they're all pansies who don't watch Craig Ferguson's monologue. Seriously, he's hilarious and worth the sleep deprivation, even if he is Scottish.
Anyway... so, there I was, listlessly sleeping the night away right up until I had a dream that I died in a car accident. I'm not kidding, either. The impact was slow motion and it hurt like Hell. I even woke up in pain. Not that any of this has anything to do with procrastination.
Hang on... a buddy just logged into IM.
Okay, where was I? Oh, yeah, bad dream. Maybe it does have something to do with procrastination, since I'm not well-rested. I did wind up going right back to sleep after waking up at 7:30 this morning. Because, you know, 577 pages need to be read and 4000 words need to be written by Friday. Or is it Thursday? My procrastinating, it seems, has even bled over to reading the fucking contract. Oh, shit... I forgot to watch True Blood and Entourage last night. Be right back.
So... wait, I'm thirsty.
Luckily, I'm a fast reader. There are plenty faster than I am, but I did manage to read an 1100-page trilogy in a day once upon a time, and knocked out Black Hawk Down on a plane ride from SFO to Incheon airport in South Korea. Or maybe it was Gimpo airport, I can't remember. Let me Google it.
Google? Or Bing? I hate the word "bing." It's lame. "Google" isn't much better, but whatever.
Oh, yeah... not sure what airport it was. Who was in Black Hawk Down? The movie, I mean. Josh Hartnett, right? Somebody once said I looked like him. I think somebody's full of it.
These books are sitting here on my desk, just waiting to be cracked open. I read one of them a long time ago... 9th grade, I think. English class. Yeesh... I'm getting old. I've also seen both of the movies made from the two books, but I'm not sure that's going to help much. 2001: A Space Odyssey and The Last Picture Show. In Arthur C. Clarke's book, the ship winds up near Saturn, if I recall, but Stanley Kubrick was getting bored, so he cut it down to Jupiter for the movie version.
I should really get back to work. Need food, though. Off to the store!
Toilet paper? Check. Lean cuisine? Check. Dog food, cat food? Check. Ah, crap... forgot nicotine gum.
So, one of these books is from 1966 and the other is from 1968. At least Larry McMurtry is my favorite author, and it's probably my oversight that I haven't read The Last Picture Show already. Probably? Um, yeah... definitely.
Damn. I'm all out of excuses. Guess I should clean the kitchen.
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