When I woke up this morning there was rain – a nice, pleasant kind of rain that looked like it had some longevity to and spoke of a pleasant day getting words down and reading on the couch. It was a writerly kind of rain, if you will, and I immediately celebrated its presence by banging out a hatfull of words and finishing off the novel I started reading over the weekend. Sadly, it was not to last, and now it’s lunch-time and the day is muggy and the computer is not my favourite place to be. Even reading isn’t all that pleasant – the muggy heat is watching-TV kind of weather, encouraging neither concentration or movement, and I force myself to remain at the keyboard only through an act of will.
Now off to read through lecture notes before the meeting tomorrow, so I don’t get any surprises when I say “sure, I can do that week’s lecture” without knowing if, in fact, I know a damn thing about what we’re discussing.
