This was Mr. Pericles, who seemed bent, as
Ugh. I almost read nothing to-day. Just some of The Annotated Alice in the morning and some of “Pericles” later. I only wrote like three paragraphs in my novel to-day, and that was in class, on the sly (in black ink, mates).
'Twas prolly as well since I realised, with no small amount of embarrassment, that I prolly could not afford the requisite thirty dollars. I've said it before and I'll say it again--I need a job. But I have to admit, I have greatly enjoyed being unemployed.
If you look at the journal of either
Yay! I'm a freak!
Now I feel like stepping outside, climbing a rope ladder on the side of the house, to the roof airstrip where a little cartoon aeroplane awaits, crawling in, pulling my knees up to my chin in order to fit, and putt-putt-putting my way into the night skies to dogfight with nose gnomes.
If you believe I ought to do this, post here with a "~" in the title.