Days like this make continually manifesting on the prime material plane kinda vaguely worth it.

I woke up laterish, around 12:16, having dreamt of fine-breasted women and elegantly appointed cushions. It was overcast outside, dim gray miasma signaling a day without the sun. Sweet overcast appointments. I get enough of that white-hot flaming bastard as it is.

Having attended to my body to get it to shut up, I decided to wear all black to celebrate the day. The silver dragon sunglasses didn't work with plain black, so I went for the Matrix-esque black stand-bys. My fifth column 'I tolerate zero bullshit' tinted babies.

I mildly glutted myself on a fat burrito, pineapple mango guava kiwi banana orange juice, and the ever festive two cups of water. Right next door, seredipitously, is the Royale Cafe. There's another one by the capital that plays more heavy indie than this place, but I wasn't in the mood to hang out in a hollow ice cube; if I want to preserve my nuts for posterity, I'll just stay a bachelor.

I was feeling cheap so I got an italian soda with kiwi. It looked like carbonated absinthe. The taste was pretty decent, but I loved the look of it, that sexy slightly jaded green. I sat down, took out my laptop. At the last minute decided to work instead of write. And as I made graphs, ran statistical analyses, quietly swore at my software crashing, doing the same statistical analyses, and dealing with more software crashing, the sky concentrated into a thick black void.

Thunder yelled like a drunken frat boy. It began to drool rain outside. The drool became a steady vomit before too long. Sitting there with my carbonated absinthe, 1/4 pussy emo indie and my work, that was a fucking moment.

The moment has passed, though, but the day continues to be wonderful. One of my statistical analyses was much more fruitful than I'd thought. This could be one of the graphs I publish for this study. When the publishing thing happens depends on this next experiment. Personally I'd like to publish the first two experiments as they are, but there's only enough to justify a small 3-5 page paper. If I had to be completely honest with my ass, the 3rd experiment fits in well enough with the 1st two to be included.

I was hoping to squeeze two papers outta this shit. But I'll just have to settle for being on schedule as opposed to being unbe-fucking-lievably ahead. Hell, for the first time in 5 years since I started this whole research thing, I'm getting significant results. That's a welcome change of pace. I'm excited.

So what the fuck does one do with a saturday without any more work? Well, there's Miyazaki's latest film, Howl's Moving Castle. I've been meaning to see that for weeks. Been too lazy or tired to bother driving, but today I have no excuse. I could buy groceries. Could.

And of course there's more writing for that project. So far I've done the equivalent of a novelette. All of the dialogues combined will likely be novel length by the time I'm done. What can I say: I've always preferred doing dialogue to narrative. Narrative feels so damned vanilla. It's like fucking with the lights off.

No personal crises or those of others at the moment.

Yes, I can't find a single reason to be upset or vaguely angry. I'll accept that and just enjoy the day in this cigarette culture.

Yes.

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