Today was as uneventful as one might expect of #smalltownlife. I slept for ten hours last night, which was awesome. Then I had breakfast with the family, which was also awesome - potatoes cooked in lard may be the best thing my peasant palate has ever tasted. After breakfast, I attempted to write for forty minutes, which was mostly spent daydreaming. And then all productivity ended when my sister, Zane, and Allie came over to visit. Zane's starting a new job tomorrow and Allie is starting college in a couple of weeks, and it's crazy to think that my nieces and nephew are all over eighteen and starting to build lives of their own. Ridic.
They stayed for a couple of hours, and it was great to see them. Eventually, though, they had to go home, and so I spent the rest of the afternoon on the back porch, drinking the coffee I smuggled in from California, watching the minicows attempting to mate, and contemplating Thorington. This was mostly an exercise in frustration; I wasn't really in the mood to do any work at all, and I probably should have just read a book. But I think I know where the scene I'm working on is headed, and I have grand plans to write before doing work for the man tomorrow. Since I'm two hours ahead of the man, I can actually write for a (hopefully) substantial amount of time before my meetings start.
But that's not what happened today. Finally I threw in the towel, did a few kettlebell swings, showered, and ate supper (steak, sweet corn, potato salad, and the salty bitterness of Phil Mickelson's defeat). And now, after more procrastinating, it's time to sleep - goodnight!
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