Which of course has made me all philosophical and agitated. I need some serious writing time.
Speaking of writing, I am almost done with part ten of White Funeral. I’ve been scared of ending it for a while. Every single attempt I wrote before ended up being too cheesy. Then I woke up in the middle of the night several days ago with a better idea of how to end the thing. Thank goodness.
Speaking of the middle of the night (the sun was shining on the sea/shining with all its might… as you can see, the heat also makes me hyper and random. Poor Dodge has been putting up with me all day like this…anyway…) I had a weird dream about a giant prison, strange people, my old parish, and the Pope. There is really no other word but weird. But it did make me wonder again: Say you were going to be killed for the faith, okay? But then along comes some random circumstance that would allow you to escape. Should you try to escape or not? Well, the dream wasn’t actually about that, but it came to mind. Again. I’ve wondered about it before. I looked in Mom’s chatechism book and it gives me no definite answer. Not that I will probably end up in that situation anyway.
Blehhh. Mom is calling me to clean something. The heat + getting interrupted every time I try to write + no good books to read + my bedroom being messy + boys acting rowdy = me being crabby, big-time.
Btw, Quickpress actually worked. wow.
PS: Mom, I am still anti-AC. Sorry. But I will add that I’m also now anti-humidity.