Good morning, here I am on the bus again. There's an ocean-spray rain in the air. My face is still a little swollen, it seems the antibiotics are slowly bringing the abscess down.
Ooh, a woman just got on wearing a Fiona the Human hat!
I had a bizarre dream last night: Musket-ball earrings were all the rage, and my cute-little-sainted-Sicilian mother asked for a pair for Christmas. So we all chipped in to buy her a monogrammed pair, made from 100% genuine iron, and they managed to stretch her earlobes out like silly-putty. Dad and I rushed her to the emergency room, where all the doctors and nurses were twisting to the late, great Frank Zappa's "Motherly Love."
It's one of those mornings where I woke up once or twice during the night and felt wide awake, but when my phone alarm went off at 4:30 ("It's a Gas!") it took every microwatt of willpower not to hit "snooze" and sink back into a coma.
Thirteen gb of diverse mp3s make interesting results when my phone is on shuffle. The last three songs were "For the Love of Ivy," "Hatredcopter," and "Mister Frump in the Iron Lung."
The first draft of my elusive story number nine is almost done. I need to chew the ear of one of my subway-working friends - I've never had the pleasure. A lot of it takes place in a tunnel, and I like to be as accurate as possible. I may have to take poetic license here and there.
Hope everyone is well and happy. Have a good one.