Toady was sort of a study in how a day gets derailed by...dumb shit. In this case, going back to a junk shop to buy a 1940s Burroughs typewriter that I can't afford, and discovering it was in much worse shape than I expected. So, at least I didn't spend the money I can't really afford to spend on antique typewriters, but, on the other hand, by the time we got back home my thoughts were scattered and I wasn't able to get back into "Seven Dreams."
And my leg still hurts.
I was going to write a little more about The Rise of Skywalker. But it's late and I'm bleary. I will say it was a thoroughly messed-up screening, starting with the curtains that wouldn't open all the way and moving along to my aching leg and and what must have been the worse-timed potty break in all my decades of movie-going. And yet, I still enjoyed it.
Tonight, more good roleplay, then two more episodes of Season Two of Lost in Space.
And on Tuesday, I began reading Thomas Wolfe's Look Homeward, Angel.
Here, below, is that Stegosaurus quilt piece Mom made me for Christmas.
Later,
CRK
11:11 p.m.