It's a gray cool beautiful morning out there, my favorite kind of summer weather, and while light rain falls through the leaves, the edge of Hurricane Danny's heavier bands are visible in the radar circle. The cat is in the window watching the rain.
I am impressed or perhaps disappointed with myself for being awake, as my plan was to sleep in as long as the dog would let me, but I don't hear him being awake yet. (All that being brushed is exhausting.) Oh, wait, spoke to soon. There's the rattle of nails on the floor. He must be checking the weather.
It's cool enough for long-sleeved shirts, and yay!
In a minute here I'm going to get up and shower and dress and take the dog out and drink some coffee and eat some food, and then I will sharpen up my green pencils and start work on the copy-edited manuscript of Chill. I probably need to clean off my desk, since I have this office and all that I could be sitting in to work and watch the rain.
(Next week on Studio 360, the theremin!)
The CEM is actually timely. Maybe by the time I finish that and write the vignette that's due Sept 7th, I will have figured out what the hell is going on in The White City. Pilot to subconscious, please send a memo what you're driving at.
Eventually, my mom and thecoughlin will be coming back over to help with dog brushing. Memo to me--when I am not broke, I need to buy a grooming table, because I am getting too old to spend ten hours hunched over on the floor. (Dear publishing, please send the money you owe me. Love, Bear.)
I was thinking of weightlifting today, since the whale watch trip is canceled, but now I'm kind of thinking that my body needs a day off--not that dog brushing actually counts as a day off from physical exercise when the dog in question is a Briard. But it's also not, you know, rock climbing or lifting weights.
The grayness and rain are making me happy. If you're looking for me, I'll be the girl snugged up in a fluffy sweatshirt, under the presumptuous cat.