To-day, I'm trying not to let these things get to me. In the shower I tried blanking my mind and just concentrating on a spot of light at the end of a tunnel. It helped a little, but it's an uphill battle. I found out to-day that my hotmail address, firstname.lastname@example.org, isn't receiving some e-mails, not even in its junk folder. I found this out after clicking the "I forgot my password" on two forums on which I'm a member, one of which reset my password when I did this. I have no idea what my password there is now, because the e-mail notifying me just never showed up.
So. E-mail me at email@example.com from now on. If you sent an e-mail to my hotmail address recently and I never replied, my apologies. It's irritating, too, thinking of what e-mails I may've missed, like comic book publishers getting back to me.
Well. I doubt that. Say, is anyone interested in seeing the project I was working on last year? I'll post it if there's interest, though not on my web site. You have to keep in mind that it's a project that won't be finished unless I do get one of those magic e-mails. I'm not even sure I want that to happen now since eight pages of it are lost forever on the computer that went kaputz.
As for projects I do see myself completing, I did finish the script for the first issue of the mini-series yesterday. I feel pleased with it. I know of only one or two things I want to edit.
Anyway. Still eating breakfast here. Oatmeal and coffee--I never get tired of plain, old fashioned oatmeal. Its tasteproof; you either accept it or you don't. I've been peculiarly tired of alcohol lately. I'm irritated that the rum I was drinking on Sunday kind of diluted the experience of watching Vertigo, so I've been watching it again with breakfast. Maybe alcohol is only good for certain movies. I don't intend on finding out any time soon. "Booze kills feelings" as Amy Sedaris pointed out. I hate killing feelings.
Oh, and, hey, Jurassic Park makes no damn sense! "But you can't think your way through this one, John, you gotta feel it." I was under the impression that's what he was doing when he tried to create a theme park based on his flea circus dream! Gotta feel not think--sheesh, yeah, thinking's the root of all evil. No wonder Michael Crichton became a Neo-Con.
Okay, Sets, calm down . . .