Entry No. 6,045

Very hot today. With the heat index we reached 99˚F. Currently, it's 82˚F.

Today I finished reading William Kennedy's Legs.

I think that next I'm reading T.E. Lawrence's Seven Pillars of Wisdom (1926), which I should have read long ago.

Today was mine and Kathryn's eighteenth anniversary.

And tomorrow I will try to try to write.

Aunt Beast

11:25 p.m.

Inside and Out

Our high today, with heat index was 94˚F, and it's currently 79˚F.

And I left the house for the first time since June 18th. I didn't make it very far before I headed back in.

I didn't really get anything done today, but it was still an improvement, and I'll try harder tomorrow. That's what you were all waiting to hear, right?

Jefferson County is now under a mandatory mask ordinance, as of 5 p.m. last Friday.

Aunt Beast

7:09 p.m.

Howard Hughes Rides Again (II)

I didn't mean to go six days without making an entry. I also didn't mean to to go the last thirteen days without leaving the house. But I did both.

Which might tell you where my head's at, especially when you factor in my not doing much of anything during all that time I've kept myself shut up in here.

I have my office window open, and I can here katydids and cicadas in the summer night, just about the best sound in the world. Our high today was only 86˚F, with the heat index, and it's currently 75˚F.

Anyway, I'm pledging to myself to do better beginning tomorrow. I'm tired of being useless.

Aunt Beast

6:07 p.m.
Roy Batty

Howard Hughes and Sleep Ain't No Friends No More

Yeah, only about three hours last night. I'm kind of delirious and headachey.

It was supposed to be stormy all day, but it mostly wasn't. Spooky went to the Botanical Gardens and took photos of roses and irises and birds and stuff. I tried to do some prep, but I was too stupid with sleepy.

Re: protesters invoking "the Terror" as a good thing, here's the truest thing I've seen today: "Saying the French Revolution led to a Republic is like saying Romeo and Juliet led to a happy ending." Yup.

I'm pretty sure my world died at least thirty years ago. Fuck, maybe even before I was born. This is somewhere else.

Tomorrow I need to try and begin a story, and I need desperately to succeed. Today, I began re-reading William Kennedy's Legs.

Today, of course, was Spooky's birthday.

Aunt Beast

7:29 p.m.

"Sick of the questions I keep asking you that make you live in the past."

So, all you baby men whining about how it's too uncomfortable to wear your goddamn masks, let me tell you someday about the two years I spent doing drag, and then we'll talk about uncomfortable. Meanwhile, wear your fucking masks.

Sunny today, except when it was rainy. Our high was measly 92˚F with the heat index, but then it rained. Now it's 74˚F.

Today I finished Michal McDowell's The Elementals.

I've been going around for months now thinking I was in a really bad mood. But I realized tonight that I'm not. It isn't me at all. It's just that the world's coming to an end.

Silly me.

Aunt Beast

10:59 p.m.
Roy Batty

"So many windmills, so little time."

I figured I needed a couple of days away from the LJ, so I took a couple of days away. Probably, I need a couple of years away from LJ, but I lack that sort of resolve.

Sunny with thunderstorms today. Our high was 93˚F, briefly, with the heat index. It's now 72˚F.

I've been trying to get back to a place where I can work. I've done some prep. I've been trying to get a new story going in my head, so I can then get it going on paper. I've talked with Drew about our next turtle paper. I did an interview, one that was actually about my work as a paleontologist, and that was different. I had several days of insomnia, then only slept two hours night before last. I haven't eaten much.

Tonight we saw the first episode of HBO's new Perry Mason series, and it's really very good. Also, we've started Weeds from the beginning, since we only ever watched it once.

The frogs and katydids outside are loud.

Aunt Beast

11:11 a.m.

Howard Hughes and If It's Not One Thing, It's Another

Today was better, all in all. I slept a little more last night, for one thing. It was a little warmer, 87˚F with the heat index, and that helped, too. Currently, it's 72˚F.

I went back to avoiding the news, and that also made a difference. It always does.

I was even sort of productive. I read over and did some revision to "Standing Water," a story that I wrote way back in 2000. A twenty-year-old story that is doing an audio version of, and I got them to let me tidy it up a little more first. I'm still not crazy about the language. I mean, I don't write like that anymore, and I look at a story from then and, well, at least I was writing better in 2000 than I was in 1994. Still, the core of "Standing Water" is good and solid weird. I still love the concept, almost enough to rewrite the story (and I pretty much never rewrite anything). And the mood's good. And it's a snapshot of a Birmingham that no longer exists, a much more authentic Birmingham, the one I loved.

So, there was that, and then Kathryn helped me get the new exhaust fan in the window, so the prep area is pretty much fully functional now. And why has it not occurred to me before today to call Winifred "Winnie"?

There was more GW2, and that was actually good, too. Oh, and a new Phoebe Bridgers album, Punisher, released to Spotify (and maybe other places) one day early. I listened to it all day. I'm listening to it right now. I'm not sure I love it as much as Stranger in the Alps, but it'll probably grow on me. And I went outside for about five minutes. I washed my favorite Frozen t-shirt by hand. Kathryn and I spent the evening watching television.

I've had much worse days recently.

Aunt Beast

5:04 p.m.

A staircase to nowhere.

Cooler weather again today, but things are warming back up beginning tomorrow. Our high today was only 81˚F, with the heat index. Currently, it's a chilly 69˚F.

And, once again, I slept no more than about four hours.

I sorta (but only sorta) miss the old days when I allowed myself to drone on here about more private and personal matters. Like depression. Because right now, yeah, it's pretty fucking bad. Of course, talking never helps. I know that. But years of therapy have instilled in me a knee-jerk belief to the contrary. Of course talking helps! Why else would people pay therapists? Or have priests? Or...anyway.

Plus, because I am an idiot and an utter masochist, I allowed myself to look at the news today. Because it isn't bad enough that I'm already struggling with my usual background levels of depression, anxiety, dread, and despair. No, I gotta go adding the latest on a zoonotic pandemic, the imminent collapse of Western civilization, the largest global recession since the Great Depression, and lots of fun shit like that. So, whee. That was my day. I didn't write. I didn't prep. I didn't write paleo. I didn't do diddly squat.

Oh, except I logged into GW2 for the first time in three weeks.

I feel as if we have all been sentenced to a very strange and lingering death. That's what I said to Spooky when we were out walking around the building in the twilight (just before I took the photo of the very obliging Leptoglossus phyllopus, below).

I also went with Kathryn to Walgreens and the market today. Did I mention whee? At least most people were wearing their masks, the new pink.

Okay. Enough wallowing. For tonight, at least.

Later Taters,
Aunt Beast

6:23 p.m.

Three entelodonts walk into a bar.

An unseasonably cool day today. There were thunderstorms all around, but I don't think it ever rained here. Our high was 82˚F, and it's now 72˚F.

I might have slept four hours last night.

I can get by on five, but not four.

Which tells you.

Pretty much everything.

You need to know.

About today.

Aunt Beast

5:21 p.m.

"Just think of me as one you never figured..."

Sunny today, low humidity again. Our high, with heat index, was 85˚F. Currently, it's 69˚F.

Oh, I forgot to mention that I heard cicadas when I went outside yesterday. First time this year. I only just remembered listening the frogs in the woods outside my office window.

Not much of a day. A huge lot of email, including Writers House, an editor in Italy, Jun Ebersole, and Andy Rindsberg. And I'm still trying to get an area ready to do prep in. We had to order a window fan from Amazon today, because I want to sent most of the dust and fumes Outside. And I spent some time rearranging a book shelf. Yeah, exciting damn day. Quarantine drags on. Are we still calling it that? Or, for some of us, is this just how the world will be now?

This morning on Facebook I said, "I have now been news free for three days, and I'm starting to feel a lot better." Which is true, but Spooky told me about the Supreme Court ruling, so thanks guys. Well, thanks to six of you, anyway.

And I have this dream where I'm screaming underwater
While my friends are all waving from the shore.
And I don't need you to tell me what that means.
I don't believe in that stuff anymore.
~ Phoebe Bridgers

Later Taters,
Aunt Beast

4:09 p.m.