1.7: A whiter shade of Procol Harum

It's been one of those days where it's hard to get going. It's definitely October. There's a warm haze hanging low in the air amidst the chaste raindrops, bringing with them a deep chill.

Yeah, though, I'd forgotten what a drag fall can be when you don't get any light whatsoever in your room in the morning. Just a hard brick wall. Anyhow, I schlepped my way out the door this morning and sat through Bileski's class. I was late, but he was even moreso, so it's no big. I showed him my video - 30 seconds of stills with some modest narration and SFX, nothing to get crazy over. I got a good mark on it, but the beginning ten seconds being filler didn't help. And for some reason, when I did the voiceover, I slapped on a British accent. It was funny at the time. It still is.

Then I went to a story meeting for the first time all year, because I figured, well, I might as well get something vaguely resembling a clipping. So I was assigned a story tangentally related to Facebook... which has become the latest in my arsenal of boredom killers. It's always something.

The most irritating thing these days is trying to interpret Xena. She stands and barks, and it could be any of a number of things she wants, from food to water to walking to mere attention. It's a headache, like screws twisting into the skull.

Not much to discuss tonight, at least little of urgency. I desire sleep, and so will be getting to bed soon. I'm really realizing the importance of... not being completely dead in the morning. I don't know if an extra half hour of sleep is going to help matters much, but what could it hurt?

Keep on rockin'
-Scott