But the big news is that it appears we have found a place to live in Providence. Spooky's mom and dad looked at it for us this morning, and it seems to be what we're looking for (we would not even be making this move without the kind aid of her parents). So, that's a huge weight off both our shoulders.
The insomnia has been endeavoring, with a fervent passion, to do me in the past two nights. No sleep until after 5:30 ayem Saturday, and then it was after 5:30 ayem again this morning. Night before last I lay in bed and tossed and turned. Last night, instead, I tried to make myself sleepy with SL rp, to very little avail. The Ambien seems suddenly useless, along with a number of other pharmaceuticals and homeopathic remedies. And I am not awake now, and I feel like crud. But, the platypus says, it hardly matters if I've slept or not. The writing goes ever, ever on.
On Friday, the galleys for the mass-market paperback of Daughter of Hounds arrived from NYC. I need to at least look over them in passing soon, as any changes I want have to be in my editor's hands by April 24th.
The interview I did for the Fearzone website in now online, here
I haven't left the apartment in a couple of days. Not since the last seizure. We had grand thunderstorms on Friday, all day, most of the night. Clouds yesterday and today, but it's still warm, so I hardly mind. Byron came over last night for two episodes of Torchwood, and we talked and talked and talked. Yesterday, Spooky picked up the Collector's Edition of the Tim Burton Sweeney Todd DVD, because it was on sale at Borders. Not much else to report.
Oh, here's something hilarious, which can stand as a treatise on why I stopped going to movies any time I'd have to endure an actual audience, since humans in America seem to have forgotten what it means to be in the audience. Is it also a comment on contemporary interpretations of Shakespeare? You decide: