Yes, it's pouring rain here in the Atlanta area, just as it's supposed to all weekend. By Monday, it'll have cleared up and the sun will be out. Figures. Guess I won't be able to do the lawn this weekend. Oh, darn!
Updated my Linux system and gave the cats who came to visit attention. Mary's been asleep all evening; she has the mother of all colds (which I think I brought home with me from Charlotte two weeks ago), and today's massage therapy lessons only made it worse. She said she was actually starting to feel better before school today.
Haven't written a lick in the last couple of days, except for work, and that doesn't count (oh, and this). I did get a copy of Clive Matson's "Let The Crazy Child Write" from the remainder piles at Barnes and Noble recently, and am looking through it for possible story starters. Of course, he doesn't say anything different than anyone else who's written a book about writing has said, he just approaches it from more of a psychobabble perspective. Still, it looks fairly interesting, if I can get into it.
I think I try to think my way through too much in life. Whether I'm playing the guitar, writing or doing something for work, I feel like I have to work everything out in my head before I can actually do anything with it. As a result, I tend to spend a lot of time doing mindless activities (e.g. play solitaire, watch TV) while my mind spins out of control. I've never been able to figure out why, but it's something that I'll have to get over one of these days.
Maybe I should just go to bed and sleep it off.