Tag: Bouchercon

If We Make It Through December

Sunday, as we slowly transition from Yule season into Carnival, and I have to go back to the office tomorrow. Paul is coming home sometime today–I can’t find his flight schedule, but he usually comes back late in the evening; I may even go to bed before he gets home. Some greeting, right? But I have to get up at six tomorrow morning, he knows that, so I won’t worry about that now. I’ll see him after work when I get home from the office. I didn’t do a whole lot yesterday; I did some chores and ran a couple of errands (it was gorgeous yesterday) and when I got home, wasn’t terribly motivated to do much of anything. I did keep doing some cleaning and organizing and filing at various intervals throughout the day, but there’s still a lot to get done this morning/today. I feel more awake and alive this morning than I did yesterday; perhaps the drinks on Friday night and the walking did wear me out a little bit, even though I wasn’t expressly fatigued. My batteries were a little low, is all. I also have to be careful not to overdo anything because I feel better, you know? I also partly blame it on Sparky, who wanted to sleep in my lap all day, the sweet boy.

I also need to make a new to-do list.

It was surreal yesterday to check in and do my morning blog post and then check the news to see that “Donald the dove” (right, Maureen Dowd? How do you show your face in public, you tragically evil and clearly shameless hateful piece of shit?) had started a war all by himself! And people want to forgive his voters for being conned? No thank you–I’ll carry those grudges to the fucking grave. I am completely incapable of feeling empathy (and I am very empathetic) for the people who joyfully and gladly voted for every last bit of this agenda. Oh no, miss me with your “I didn’t vote for this.” Yes, you fucking did, and you mocked everyone who tried warning you before hand. Where are all those people who told me I was overreacting in 2016? In 2024? You deserve to be reminded of your gleeful ignorance and hateful disrespect every fucking day for the rest of your fucking lives. I sure as fuck didn’t vote for any of this bullshit, yet have to deal with it because YOU wanted to “own the libs.”

NO ONE IS LAUGHING NOW. HAPPY? No? Ever heard the phrase “you reap what you sow”? Well, now you’re reaping what you sowed and you don’t seem very happy with it. Live with the shame and utter humiliation of your public ignorance and stupidity, and you get no sympathy or pity from me–and there will certainly be no forgiveness ever coming from me.

Hope you kept your diapers, ear tampons, and golden shoes! Hillary was only wrong in underestimating how many of you were deplorable pieces of shit. Although, there is something almost comically ironic about the fall of the United States’ experiment in democracy coming from the small hands of an uneducated bigoted pedophile rapist. Well done, white people, well done.

And yet I still have high hopes that this will, all evidence to the contrary, be a good year. I feel weird about that, to be honest; how can I feel positive about the future in the face of all evidence to the contrary? It feels weird to be feeling good about myself and my life, making plans (tentative, as so much is out of my control) and just in general being happy and pleased with myself? I think I have one more year to stay away from conferences and so forth, to continue working on myself and my work and shaping up everything in the directions I want to take, before I return again to the wild world of mystery conferences. I think Bouchercon is in DC for 2027, and so I will probably go to that.

I did watch a lot of videos on Youtube yesterday–some historical stuff (the Ptolemaic dynasty of Egypt; Cleopatra’s sister1; the Valois dynasty of France), some interviews and reviews of Heated Rivalry, and sports “commentators” on the collapse of Alabama in the play-offs, or the SEC “not being what it was.” I also don’t–and have never–understood the mentality of “my conference is better than yours” arguments; they are pointless beyond any metric beyond winning the championships. The Big Ten has won two in a row, and could be winning a third in a row this year, with three different schools. That’s impressive, indeed. Of course, the SEC did that from 2007-2010 with four different schools…but that’s also the past. One of the biggest problems I have always seen with college football is the polls–because being a brand name is the most important thing with the polls. Ohio State was number one for how long, and how long was Indiana ranked behind them, only for Indiana to beat them? Indiana isn’t a brand like Ohio State or Alabama–although that may be changing now. Preseason polls are meaningless now, just like any polls before the playoff rankings and any bowl game that isn’t a part of the playoffs–which is why you cannot look at bowl results as a metric of conference strength. Many players opt out of the bowl games now because they are meaningless, so bowl teams are often not the same team from the season. Toxic fandom is just another phase of toxic masculinity–and women can be as bad, if not worse, than men.

And on that note, I am going to get another cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich and see what all is going on in the world today, before I get back to work on cleaning.

  1. Arsinoë IV has always been of interest to me, as was Cleopatra’s older sister Berenice. ↩︎

Only You

And here it is Wednesday again; halfway through the week, but this time I am heading into vacation time and not just the weekend. Huzzah! I feel pretty good this morning; no fatigue or aches detected, so let’s hope that lasts through the day. I was pretty fucking exhausted last night when I got home from the clinic; we weren’t super-super busy, but I was the only person counseling, so it was draining on top of being tired. I did hit a wall in the afternoon after my last patient, so came home and crashed out in my easy chair, intermittently dozing off and waking up again for a couple of hours before Paul got home. We watched the season finale of Platonic (which really is a lot of fun) and the latest Peacemaker, which had some big twists and a special guest star, too. I then went to bed early and slept deeply and well, or so it feels as I sit here swilling coffee and scarfing down coffee cake.

But that feels like a major win at this point.

I did get some work done on the book, but I was so damned tired I didn’t get very far with it before my brain shut down. And it’s October already! Where the hell did September go? This is what comes from wishing it were the weekend already and counting down the days; time goes by much faster, doesn’t it? I guess that’s what Mom meant by “wishing your life away,” wasn’t it? But I didn’t finish The Hunting Wives and it’s already Halloween Horror Month, so I am going to begin my reread of The Haunting of Hill House tonight. I also downloaded Clown in a Cornfield 2: Frendo Lives to listen to in the car while driving this weekend, and am taking a couple of books with me to read before bed every night in Alabama next weekend. I should read horror more throughout the year, of course, but the inability to focus and read something as quickly as I used to really bugs me. I also want to watch some new-to-me horror films, and probably rewatch some, like Halloween (always seasonally appropriate for October) and The Haunting–I may even rewatch Sinners so I can pick up on more things I missed the first time through.

I also need to finish writing this book so I can write some newsletters. It’s been a very hot minute; the last one was my Katrina anniversary essay, and that was now over a month ago. But Bouchercon exhausted me, and it took me a while to get over that issue, only to have the reaction to my vaccine from this past weekend. It feels almost like I spent all of September fatigued and tired. But I also learned how to give myself my bi-monthly injection this month, so that’s a win, and I also reconnected with my writing brain, which was a HUGE win. That has also improved my mood and outlook dramatically; I hate when I fear that the writing part of my brain has dried up or atrophied. I doubt that I will ever get to be as prolific as I used to be, and not certain that I would even want that, to be honest–at least not while I still am working full time. I just don’t have the energy or the bandwidth to produce between three and five books in a year anymore…or the desire. I know I have a lot of book and story ideas I may never get around to writing, but whereas that thought used to fill me with panic…I’ve resigned myself to that reality and no longer get anxious about that inevitable truth.

Of course, that could be a side effect of the anxiety medication, too. I did also worry that the medication had sapped my will to write…but that is clearly not the case.

I have lots of things to get done around the office this morning, too…but I don’t think the clinic is very busy today, and it’s not just me this morning. I need to do some chores tonight in addition to writing–I was too tired last night and the kitchen is a disaster area, literally, again–but am feeling good about things and getting back on top of everything.

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines. Have a great Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll say hello again tomorrow morning.

Jacob Elordi in Saltburn, looking like a snack despite the poor choice in reading materials.

Bend Me Shape Me

Tuesday morning here after a relatively easy day in the spice mines. We weren’t very busy in the clinic (I had to cover again), and I was able to get a lot of work done in the office to get caught up. Huzzah! I stopped and made groceries on the way home, and once I was home, I strapped myself into the desk chair (despite Sparky’s whining) and worked for several hours on the book, and yes…I have found Scotty’s voice again. (Better late than never, right?) So that work also went well, and Paul and I caught up on a show we watch just before retiring for the evening. I slept extremely well again, and feel rested and alert this morning. I also don’t feel sore anywhere, which I hope will last for a while. I don’t think we’re very busy today in the clinic, either, which means I can catch up in my administrative duties even more today. Huzzah!

It’s also dark outside the windows this morning, since the equinox has already passed but the time change won’t occur for another full month or so–they moved it back to November, didn’t they? It was a very nice day, with not much humidity so it felt much cooler than usual for the month, and we’re almost to October…so I don’t know that the humidity won’t have one last hurrah? But it’s been very pleasant since the week before Bouchercon, and that’s been a lovely thing. We’re supposed to get rain today and the next couple of days (a significant shift from the weekend’s forecast, which said we wouldn’t get any this week, and I am delighted to know that isn’t, actually, the case), although the chances aren’t particularly high. But 20% chance is better than zero percent chance, amirite?

Apparently, today is supposedly the Rapture–which isn’t even in the Bible, of course–yet again; I’ve lost track of how many times Christians have promised us they’ll be leaving the planet only to sorely disappoint those of us who’d be delighted to get rid of that trash. I do keep meaning to go back and reread Revelations again–I want to write an essay about end times mythology, which would include The Omen–and I’ve also been going down wormholes lately about the Book of Enoch, which was excluded from the Christian Bible by that Nicaean Council (at whose feet so many of humanity’s worst problems can be lain) but is very interesting. A lot of religious-based fiction actually comes from Enoch; the Nephilim and the Sons of God and the giants and so forth, which is very interesting. (I’ve always wanted to write about the Nephilim, or at least one Nephilim character.) Does anyone know what time the Raptured are going to be leaving? Or is this yet another false fucking alarm, since no one knows the mind or will of God?

Heretics. Seriously.

And maybe–just maybe–the Book of Enoch can be the key to this Colin book I’ve wanted to write for decades now.

Because I don’t have enough books to write as it is, do I? #madness

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I need to do some chores when I get home from work tonight–the dishes are out of control again, which means so is the kitchen–and it shouldn’t take me long to get it under control again so I can do some more writing. Have a lovely Tuesday, and I’ll be back on Pay-the-Bills Wednesday yet again!

Antinous as Osiris. Easy to see why Hadrian was obsessed, isn’t it?

Tumbling Dice

You’ve got to ro-oh-oll me, call me the tumbling dice…

Good morning out there to my daily (or periodic) Constant Readers! I really didn’t want to get up this morning, in all honesty; it was so comfortably cozy under my blanket pile and Sparky was cuddling (and only occasionally attacking my feet), which was very blissful. My legs feel a little fatigued this morning, which isn’t a good sign for my fatigue. But yesterday at work wasn’t at all bad, or a struggle to get through; it actually went by pretty quickly and I had energy when I got home. I got started on my chores (didn’t finish them) and sat in my chair to read with Sparky in my lap, and of course, the purring curled up kitty puddle started putting me to sleep. I woke up at just past nine and went up to bed before Paul even got home from the office.

I read deeper into the manuscript (before dozing off last night), and it’s not bad; it’s just kind of awkward and unpolished, which naturally is a bit of a relief about the revisions that need to be done in addition to the chapters that need to be finished before I can turn it in. I am taking it with me to work to read over lunch and breaks, and may get started on writing the rest of it tonight. LSU has one of those throwaway games this weekend–against Southeastern Louisiana, out of Hammond–so while I do want to watch (if it’s even on television) it’s not one of the big games of the season and I am not even sure who else is playing this weekend. I’ve not even bothered to look into who’s playing yet! I hope to have a successful writing/editing weekend; fingers crossed!

One can hope, at any rate.

My creativity is coming back, though; which usually happens when I am coming down to the wire on another project. Working on that short story to finish it Monday night kicked that door open–not like it was, back in the day, but I’ll take it–and started thinking about other short stories to write and what to work on with this book and how to get it all under control and working and something that my Constant Readers will like. I think I am going to finish Chlorine after this; probably work on it and Muscles at the same time, most likely. I also have some short stories I want to finish by the end of the year, and it has been a very hot minute since my last newsletter, hasn’t it? The Katrina one was, I think, the last one; and that was around two-three weeks ago, wasn’t it? I am really at sea; did Bouchercon and the return of the fatigue really set me that far back on everything?

Apparently so.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Wednesday (mine already feels like a Thursday) and I shall return on the morrow. Cheerio!

The sack of Constantinople by the 4th Crusade, 1204

Beach Baby

I love this song still to this very day. It came out during a time where nostalgia was big–especially the 1950s–and the Beach Boys had just made another comeback and their album Endless Summer was a huge hit. The song is very reminiscent of the Beach Boys–all that California sun and surf and cheerfulness and high school hops–but there was a melancholy under all that cheerful nostalgia, especially with the background refrain, oft-repeated through it, of do you remember? do you remember? (The song also come out around the same time as a book called What Really Happened to the Class of 65? and I always associated the song with the book.)

It is Tuesday morning and I am up early, as always, swilling coffee and eating coffee cake, care of Costco. I did finish editing that story, and got it turned in. I hope the editor likes it. I had the idea for it many years ago–not that long, but it seems like it now–and started writing it, getting a draft done before wondering where to try to sell it. I was going to submit it to the Minneapolis Bouchercon anthology I edited, putting it through the anonymous read process as I did for the New Orleans and St. Petersburg ones because it would look like “insider pool” if I was accepted. (I have not submitted to a Bouchercon anthology since being told this, by the way. If their board thinks I would just automatically put my own story in there instead of following the same procedure as everyone else? I don’t need to be in any of their anthologies in the future.) I’ve had the idea for a long time–going back to when I actually lived in Minneapolis, which is where I also came up with the title, which is one of my favorites of all my titles. I did try selling some other places, but the story was still…not quite right, and was rejected, as it should have been. I think I was able to fix it, but…we’ll have to see. But it felt good to work on it, and I also realized that just because it doesn’t “feel” the same to write and edit as it used to, doesn’t mean I’m not doing good work. I’ve changed, both physically and mentally, and that’s going to make things seem different to me than how they used to work, you know?

Yesterday wasn’t a bad day, you know. We weren’t as busy at work as I had expected, primarily from no-shows and last minute reschedules, so I wasn’t exhausted when I got home from work and worked on the story. I didn’t do any chores–the kitchen somehow exploded again, I don’t know how all this happens, honestly–so when I get home tonight I can’t write or read or even catch up on the news until those chores are completed. I hate when the downstairs is a mess, and the whole apartment, when it’s out of order, feels very cramped and small and claustrophobic. Because I am all about the claustrophobia? Apparently so. I slept well again last night and don’t feel terribly sleepy or tired this morning, which is a good thing. Sparky was a combination cuddle-bug/attack kitty this morning before I got up, and went into attack mode again while I was putting my shoes on. I think Paul will be working late at the office tonight, if I am not mistaken, and so it’ll be time for some bonding time after I write (or while I read and edit). I doubt I’ll be catching up on the news; the current story dominating the legacy “media” doesn’t interest me, nor am I interested in being shamed for not mourning someone who advocated me being stoned to death, either. (Miss me with the “he didn’t say that!” Okay, then, tell me one positive thing he ever said about queer rights and equality. I’ll wait.)

The story not getting this fawning, wall-to-wall coverage from the legacy media? How about the two men lynched on consecutive days in Mississippi? The Mississippi “police” already determined the Black college student’s death had “no evidence of foul play.” Really? The other victim was a white homeless man, and their names were, respectively, Trey Reed of Delta State University and Cory Zukatis. After all, it’s not like the Mississippi police have a history of covering up hate crimes or anything. (eye roll to infinity)

We are living in dark times, indeed.

And on that grim note, I am heading into the spice mines. Stay safe, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning.

Rock and Roll Heaven

Well, yesterday was a lesson to me.

I was fatigued like I haven’t been since before I went into the hospital. Everything ached–back, hips, ankles, and neck–and my muscles were so damned tired that getting up and walking into the kitchen became more and more horrific every time I did. The coffee yesterday morning staved the exhaustion for a while, but it was really my worst day since May. I did get my day job duties done, but any thoughts about going down to Bouchercon were off the table as I was exhausted. I wound up falling asleep in my chair around nine last night, went upstairs around eleven, and slept until nine this morning with no objection from Sparky…so he knew how tired I was, precious little darling that he is. Even now he’s not trying to attack my feet or calves the way he usually does when I am sitting here typing in the morning. He’s so adorable, really. Who knew I’d turn into a cat person for the latest third of my life?

Tonight I am having dinner with some of the Queer Crime Writers at Lilette, which will be nice, and I was thinking yesterday that it might not hurt to go down there around four or five, see some people and hang out before dinner. (Sparky just attacked my left leg, so we’re back to normal here in the Lost Apartment this morning.) But given how exhausted I was yesterday…not sure if I should risk it, in all honesty. But I think part of it yesterday was not sleeping terribly well–my body was exhausted, but my mind was overstimulated and I couldn’t turn it off, plus I didn’t get home until after midnight and had to get up early. Maybe if I’d had time to nap yesterday there might have been a different outcome? I honestly don’t know. But today I am going to continue to rest and recover (my doctor told me yesterday morning that the fatigue occurrences also have to do with my newly compromised immune system and getting used to the medication and should probably no longer be an issue by the new year, greeeeeaaaaaatttt), and see how I feel this afternoon about heading down there. I think all I am really going to do much of today is reading here on the home front, along with some chores. Paul has his trainer this afternoon so he won’t be around much today, either. I am hopeful that taking it fairly easy today will put me in a position to do some writing tomorrow.

And no, seeing pictures on social media aren’t giving me FOMO, either–which is emotional progress, isn’t it?

And since I have a compromised immune system, is it wise to be in a massive crowd of people in the first place? Probably not, since the world is full of assholes as we learned during COVID (which hasn’t gone away, just no one talks about it anymore), and I also need to follow up with the pharmacy to make sure that a) they have it and b) which brand it is, because the prescription has to be exact. You can’t just write a prescription for the vaccine, you have to know whether it’s Moderna or Pfizer or whatever brand they are now. Thanks again, RFK Jr, you leather-skinned incompetent asshole and you also must be so glad both your parents are dead. When your entire family comes out against you…what does that say? But then again the Kennedy name used to be hated with the heat of a dozen white-hot stars the way the names Clinton and Obama are now, and conservative haters have long memories.

And on that note, I am going to take my manuscript to my chair and start reading during the dreadful morning football shows (there are very few ESPN football commentators I don’t loathe), so you have a lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning with a report on today.

I love artists’ renderings of Egyptian sites!

I Need a Lover

Friday and yet another work-from-home day blog. I have a department meeting this morning, and a team meeting–all before a doctor’s appointment this morning. I was thinking about attending the Crooked Lane party tonight at Bouchercon, but we’re going to see how I feel later on…whether I do want to go down there or not. Scrolling through my Facebook feed did not give me FOMO yesterday or the day before at all, either.

I am exhausted this morning. I had dinner and wonderful conversation with a friend before Noir at the Bar, and we had an enormous crowd–so much so that I kind of got overwhelmed and nervous when we got started. After that, I had a weird Lyft experience, in which my ride got canceled while I was in the car, and had to get out and start over again. This happened right in front of the conference hotel, so I thought, what the hell and went into the bar to hang out with my Queer Crime Writers gang. I also ran into some other people I really like (and Bryon Quertermous), which was also kind of nice. But that second wind didn’t last very long, and then I summoned another ride and headed home, exhausted, and didn’t get to bed until almost one–waaaaaay past my bedtime. I was surprised I lasted that long, honestly, but this morning I am exhausted, my hips and ankles ache, and while my brain is alert, my body is most definitely not. I was planning on going to the Crooked Lane party this evening, and possibly the Underrepresented Writers event, but it will absolutely depend on how I feel. I am not going to exhaust myself, and risk another relapse.

So, I have some things to get done today for work and I have a follow-up appointment with my primary care doctor. Nothing to worry about, it’s just the half-year annual check-up, and of course, discussing how I’m doing since the hospital stay. Outside of the fatigue and running out of energy so regularly, I am doing quite well. My gastro system hasn’t been an issue since I checked out of the hospital, and Monday is when I am getting my first injection (and learning how to do it myself). I don’t know how that is going to effect me, either; but I don’t think it will take me a full week to recover from them since they aren’t as intense as the infusions were.

The coffee is starting to kick in, but my legs are still tired and achy. But it’s an improvement, and huzzah for that! Hopefully being able to sleep in tomorrow (as late as Sparky will let me) will knock the fatigue out and put it to rest for awhile. Ha, I spoke too soon. As I got up to get more coffee just now, my legs had stiffened up! The joys of getting older, I guess. Heavy heaving sigh. But the weather has been exceptionally nice for Bouchercon; almost like Mother Nature is making up for the one Hurricane Ida (bitch) canceled in 2022.

And on that note, I should probably head into the spice mines and start working. Have a lovely and marvelous Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back in the morning.

Lonesome Loser

Thursday and I have the day off blog because I am having dinner at 5 with a friend and after that I am hosting Noir at the Bar: Morally Grey. Tomorrow is a work-at-home day around my doctor’s appointment, and I was thinking about going to the Crooked Lane party Friday night but…not so sure about that. I was terribly tired when I got home from work yesterday evening, and just collapsed into my easy chair. Sparky joined me post-haste, and I basically watched the USOpen with Paul all night before I fell asleep in my chair before nine (the match we’d been watching concluded, and I couldn’t even tell you who played? Naomi Osaka?) but I slept deeply and well last night. I got up at my usual time to feed Sparky and went back to bed and slept for another two hours…but Sparky came up and cuddled with me when he was finished eating AND he was purring. Coincidence I feel refreshed and rested this morning?

I think not.

Today I want to get some things taken care of around the house before I head to the Quarter to have dinner, including some writing and reading, and I also have to get prepared for tonight as well. I have to work tomorrow so I am not going to be doing anything after the reading besides coming home and going to bed. Pretty nice, if I do say so myself. I actually feel good this morning, which is a lovely feeling. (Never underestimate how well the soothing relaxation from the purr of a cuddling cat works.) I also have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning after my department and team meetings. The Crooked Lane party is tomorrow night, and I may head down for that; never hurts to stay in the good graces of a publisher, am I right?

Yesterday, our shitstain of a governor applauded the mention of the military being sent to New Orleans (and other Louisiana cities) to clean up the “crime” problem by the demented president. That presence here won’t affect our already struggling tourist economy at ALL, will it? And how will such a thing fly in Moses Mike Johnson’s district of Shreveport/Bossier City? Yeah, no government overreach here at all. Imagine had Biden sent the military in to Dallas or Kansas City or Nashville to help with crime? I will say this–a city known for its hospitality and welcoming attitude will make those soldiers sorry they were ever deployed. Don’t fuck with New Orleans. And seriously, fuck our failure of a governor, who is doing nothing about the wetlands (other than making everything worse), and he also ran on cleaning up crime…so he’s admitting, straight up, he’s an utter failure and so is his administration. We already knew that, of course; our state government makes Florida’s look like California’s.

If the federal government really wanted to clean up crime in Louisiana, they’d start at the Governor’s Mansion in Baton Rouge before making their way to the capitol. Louisiana has more oil than Kuwait, but we’re in the bottom five of everything. This is your Republican governance example as to why you should never vote for one of them; DeSantis is another great example of shit stain governance. You’d have thought we learned our lesson from Bobby Jindal’s corrupt incompetence, and how a Democratic governor basically cleaned up that mess…all so Landry could drive Louisiana into the sewer with little chance of getting out.

I know I’ll do my best to make the troops uncomfortable here. Landry also announced that ICE prisoners will have their own special section in the inhumane hell of Angola. (Reminder that immigrants have always rebuilt Louisiana after disastrous hurricanes. New Orleans would have been in ruins for years without them.)

And on that note, I am heading back into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, and I hope to see you tonight at the Crescent City Brewhouse for Noir at the Bar: Morally Grey.

Ramses II statues with drifting sand at the Abu Simbel temple

Count on Me

Tuesday and back to the office with me! Much as I hate getting up to an alarm, it wasn’t so rough this morning. I would prefer to stay in bed much longer under my pile of blankets and Sparky on my pillow above my head, but them’s the breaks, I guess. I made hardly a dent into my to-do list that I made yesterday morning, but again–them’s the breaks. I don’t think we’re terribly busy today. Next week? We are super-booked up with appointments next week….but even next week is a little soon for any STI’s to show up from this past Decadence weekend. (FYI, the window period for gonorrhea can be up to four weeks…)

It was a lovely weekend of rest and relaxation. Bouchercon is here this weekend, and so I am off Thursday and Friday so if I want to go down there and be seen, I can. I am hosting Noir at the Bar on Thursday night at the Crescent City Brewhouse, and have dinner plans for Lilette on Saturday night, but I don’t think (or remember) if I’ve agreed to anything else. I suspect I’ll end up not going down there very often or very much, to be honest. We shall see how it all goes, and I suspect it will have more to do with my fatigue levels than anything else. It really irritates me that I am still not at 100%. Patience, Gregalicious, patience. I’ve never been very patient.

It was a fairly calm and quiet Labor Day. I did get the downstairs orderly again, and did the floors (I love my new vacuum cleaner), and dipped into The Hunting Wives for a bit. I also made some notes on the new Scotty and also came up with how to write a short story I’ve been struggling with for years (staggering to realize how long that some stories sit in my files before I get around to finishing them), and I am not entirely sure this idea will actually work, so we’ll have to see how that all turns out.

We watched Platonic and Foundation last night, and we started the second season of Shrinking (ROY KENT!!!), which was a lot of fun, and I look forward to getting back into Shrinking tonight.

It was so lovely to come downstairs to a clean apartment with the rugs clean and put back in place (Sparky always moves them), and I had some lovely coffee this morning as well. It’s an odd week–I’m only in the office today and tomorrow, and I have a lot of things to do before the end of the work week. I also have a doctor’s appointment Friday morning as well…

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday wherever you are, Constant Reader!

Sweet Talkin’ Woman

Pay-the-Bills Wednesday has rolled around once again, and I am up early, as per the norm. One more day on the office, work-at-home Friday, and then a three day weekend. I have also taken off the Thursday and Friday after Labor Day, because of Bouchercon….so a three day weekend leads into a two-day work week. Ah, well, sometimes it happens, doesn’t it?

I had a good laugh at my own expense yesterday afternoon, as oblivious Greg finally had the proverbial lightbulb come on above his head. I’d been wondering about the fatigue and mental exhaustion of the last couple of weeks (even after the infusion fatigue died away), and even yesterday I was wondering about “maybe” being depressed and not recognizing it since I don’t have anxiety any more…and then it hit me, right between the eyes: The twenty year Katrina anniversary is this Friday! I’ve been reading old blog entries from that time, watching documentaries and videos about Katrina and the aftermath (because I wanted to write an essay for the anniversary), and duh, you think those memories might have had something to do with that possibly-depression? One of the reasons I made Valerie so oblivious in A Streetcar Named Murder was because I, too, am completely oblivious. Some things, apparently, never change. I always am a bit down this time of year. Always.

Yes, I’ve been immersing myself in a very depressing subject and then wondered why I was probably depressed…not much ever gets past me, does it? Heavy heaving sigh. But that’s the obliviousness I was talking about. One can never go wrong assuming I am clueless.

I was also delighted to hear that Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift are engaged. As always, the right lost their minds the way they always do–after all, she’s an anti-Trumper and therefore in their eyes a demon sent from hell to corrupt Amerikkkuh–and I honestly don’t understand why they are always looking to get outraged over things that don’t really concern them or are, frankly, none of their fucking business. See also Sydney Sweeney ad (no one cared except them and a few academics parsing it) and the Cracker Barrel logo nonsense. (They have changed their minds and are keeping the old cracker and the barrel on their logo.) Dean Cain (aka worst Superman ever) made a fool of himself making an ICE recruitment video, which I did enjoy a few cruel laughs over.

All of this begs the question: where are the Epstein files?

So, I am hopeful that tonight I’ll be able to get some things done when I get home. Sparky was needy yesterday because Paul went into his office, so he was home by himself all afternoon…he’s always super-clingy after he’s been left alone, which is very sweet. I don’t know if Paul is working from home today or not–which will determine Sparky’s neediness when I get home, but I just have to remember to pick him up and let him sit on my shoulders (draped around my neck like a stole), which always soothes him and makes him very happy. I did manage to do some of the things on the new to-do list I made up before I left the office yesterday, and I am not berating myself for not getting more done because it was overly ambitious in the first place.

But let me get going with this day and head into the spice mines. Have a great day, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow morning.

An obelisk in the Karnak temple with the moon overhead.