Well, here I am, back in Marion. Yay! I don't mind being in Marion, really. It's the same as living anywhere else as long as you don't leave the house much. And I don't. Ha! Screw you, Marion! I got you licked.

I was delighted, simply delighted, to find my copy of A Sun that Never Sets had arrived in perfect working condition. I'm still waiting for my copy of the first Black Sabbath album to get here and I'm getting a bit antsy about it. I sit around all damn day, my fingers a-rap-tap-tapping on my desk, waiting for the mail to arrive. "Maybe today," I say, "Maybe today my beautiful Sabbath will come to me." But, alas, it has yet to bless me with its presence.

I'm getting frustrated with writing the greatest science fiction novel of all time. I'm just not a skilled enough writer. I'm gonna put that sucker on the back-burner for a bit and work on some other things. You know, work on my chops a bit. I'm writing some articles for a email-zine my friend, Ian, is starting. It should be all kinds of stupid. That's just how I roll, dog--stupidly.

I really don't want to put all my clothes away and make my bed but I'm going to anyway.

Later.