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brigdhI saw The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy last night; it's a wonderful movie. Great adaptation of the books, and I continue to love Ford SO MUCH. His towel! *giggles to self*
The weather here continues to be cold and grey, with intermittent rain. Even when it's not raining, it looks like it is. One would think I was living in Seattle or London instead of Ohio. Aren't we supposed to have, I don't know, big clear skies and hot sticky summers? Yes, yes, I think we are.
I have a fireplace though. It's not actually mine- it belongs to the coffeeshop I'm at- but it's got a fire and I'm sitting in a big, stuffed chair right in front of it with my legs up on its ledge, and everything is warm and good and coffee-scented.
You know, I don't actually like coffee. I never have; it's too bitter for me. But I'm tired of drinking tea, so I have a caffe latte. Coffee is only drinkable once you've put enough milk and sugar into it to reduce it to a pale tan color.
It's not waking me up, though. I have no motivation today. I'd like to curl up with someone and do something empty and pointless, maybe watch endless reruns of Saturday afternoon TV, barely paying attention, not even talking, half-asleep. But, no. Even if I could convince someone to waste the day with me, I have things I need to do. Right now, theoretically I'm rewriting a fanfiction in order to turn it into an original work (which is ethically questionable, but this is due on Monday and I don't have time to write anything from scratch) so that I can use it to apply to a writing class in the fall. I have a headache, though. And no motivation. Motivation is a fond memory; something that happened long ago or will happen once I finish waking up. Instead I poke at livejournal, hoping vainly for something interesting to appear. In the meantime, I play Minesweeper.
The weather here continues to be cold and grey, with intermittent rain. Even when it's not raining, it looks like it is. One would think I was living in Seattle or London instead of Ohio. Aren't we supposed to have, I don't know, big clear skies and hot sticky summers? Yes, yes, I think we are.
I have a fireplace though. It's not actually mine- it belongs to the coffeeshop I'm at- but it's got a fire and I'm sitting in a big, stuffed chair right in front of it with my legs up on its ledge, and everything is warm and good and coffee-scented.
You know, I don't actually like coffee. I never have; it's too bitter for me. But I'm tired of drinking tea, so I have a caffe latte. Coffee is only drinkable once you've put enough milk and sugar into it to reduce it to a pale tan color.
It's not waking me up, though. I have no motivation today. I'd like to curl up with someone and do something empty and pointless, maybe watch endless reruns of Saturday afternoon TV, barely paying attention, not even talking, half-asleep. But, no. Even if I could convince someone to waste the day with me, I have things I need to do. Right now, theoretically I'm rewriting a fanfiction in order to turn it into an original work (which is ethically questionable, but this is due on Monday and I don't have time to write anything from scratch) so that I can use it to apply to a writing class in the fall. I have a headache, though. And no motivation. Motivation is a fond memory; something that happened long ago or will happen once I finish waking up. Instead I poke at livejournal, hoping vainly for something interesting to appear. In the meantime, I play Minesweeper.
