Somehow, I allowed yesterday to slip between my fingers, or I breathed it out when I was meant to inhale. Either way, it's gone now. And I made nothing much of the time. I didn't write. I think I'm actually afraid of finishing this book. Don't ask me why, because I'm not yet sure. What did I do yesterday? I can hardly recall. I walked to A Capella books in L5P (these days, I need all the exercise I can get) and picked up some books to send to Poppy, who wanted me to send her books more than anything else. I went ahead and sent her care package number one yesterday, figuring all the massages from fans can go into number two. It was mostly a stack of paperbacks — Ramsey Campbell, Thomas Harris, Neil Gaiman, John Steinbeck, Carson McCullers, and etc. A few silly things I'd picked up at Junkman's Daughter thinking she and Chris might get a laugh from them. I did that. I ate an apple for lunch. Late in the afternoon, I beat Spooky at Scrabble. Sophie's diabetes is acting up again, and Spooky spent much of the day plotting a glucose curve on her. I read "Nemesis," a poem by Lovecraft. But no, I didn't write. One or another or several of the Nine Seven Deadly Sins is to be blamed, I'm sure. We had a good Kid Night, though I sort of felt as if I didn't really deserve it, not having written and all. We watched It Came from Beneath the Sea (actually a very funny movie it you watch it just the right way) and Men in Black II . After four films by Herzog and the one by Kar Wai Wong, after five nights of subtitles, I had an intense need for visual junk food. Oh, and I also watched a Biography Channel thing about the life of Andre the Giant, which was rather sad. Late, I finished Final Fantasy X-2 sooner than expected. I completed 62% of the game in 38 point something or another hours. Yuna, Paine, and Rikku defeated Suyin and Vegnagun, and I was left wanting more. Despite the insipid music and the sugary, goofy dialogue, this was perhaps the closest I've ever come to playing a movie — though, at the opposite end of the cute spectrum, The Chronicles of Riddick: Escape from Butcher's Bay is probably tied for this distinction. And that's really what I want from a video game. I don't want a game . Games bore me. I want a story. I want to play a movie. I suppose I'll play Final Fantasy X next. I'll probably grab a used copy cheap off eBay. Who the frell would ever have thought that I'd become addicted to Final Fantasy ? Oh, the shame. I have a message from Stephen King to pass along to Poppy. That feels almost as strange as having become addicted to Final Fantasy . We have entered Day Four of Hideous Construction Noise across the street. I'd hoped the painters would be taking the weekend off, but no. The perpetual dentist-drill sound of the paint scrapers is loud and clear. Well...anyway. I should go try to write.