Rainy Day

While the storm in my head has yet to arrive, we're getting a fair amount of steady rain here in the outside world. Autumn has arrived with uncustomary abruptness: instant nip to the air, overcast, water from the sky.

Since drought conditions prevail in DC, the rain is welcome. And I love Fall, so I'm happy to put on a sweater. But the darker days and the gray mornings have left me vulnerable to the "Maybe I'll just roll over and get another half-hour" or "I think I'll just have a nap" syndrome.

No amount of caffeine, or stretching, or yawning seems to shake off the desire to crawl into the cave and sleep the day away.

For what it's worth, I've also got the season-change food symptom: the desire to eat massive amounts of carbohydrates in advance of the coming winter. For the first time in my LIFE I ate an entire pint of Ben & Jerry's in one evening (Coffee Heath Bar Crunch) the other day. I told myself it was because I had a sore throat. Unh-hunh, that's it. Sure.

If I'm not careful, the abuse of these two practices (sleeping and eating) could just ruin my girlish figure. I worked hard for my size 8, a process I'd prefer not to have to revisit.

On the other hand, the office sofa is looking awfully enticing...

Hearing Voices: A Pair of Bobs

One of the beauties of the web is encountering a real voice ~ one of those writers whose writing is so specific to them, whose rhythms and riffs are so distinctive, that you can practically hear the timbre of the voices. It isn't primarily about style; there are a lot of writers who try to get there with a single note of vitriol or humor or bonedeep cynicism, but the greats are much more nuanced than that.

It isn't about subject matter either. I'd read these folks no matter what they had on their minds. Read A Girl Named Bob and Sour Mash with a Twist and you'll feel that you're truly getting to know them, the essential them. And if we're not, if this is fiction, then it's all the more impressive.

I want to be Bob and Sour Bob when I grow up.