If you’ve ever read Douglas Adams, you’ll understand why I feel like the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal. (A beast so mind-bogglingly stupid, it thinks if you can’t see it, it can’t see you.)
For those more Earthbound, I’m playing ostrich, with my head stuck in the sand so deep I can barely wiggle my toes.
Marion Zimmer Bradley is the sand of choice today, I’d never read her before. It’s good stuff. I finished a Mercedes Lackey book yesterday. Next will probably be another author I’ve never read, Elizabeth Haydon IIRC. The way I’m going, I’ll start that tonight.
I went to the library. And the five books I found weren’t enough, I also went to Bookman’s. I guess I was just tired of bawling my eyes out.
There are things I need to do, people I need to deal with. But I keep sticking my head back in the sand. I’m at work, and I’m amazed I’ve accomplished anything at all. So far my pattern seems to be work fifteen minutes, read for ten. I’m amazed no one has noticed–apparently. If they have, they are kind enough not to say anything. Maybe they’re afraid I’d cry.
They’re probably right.