Yesterday was the twenty-first, so I fasted. We actually had dinner plans at 6:30 that I knew about, so to facilitate that I started early on Monday afternoon. It made for a long day yesterday (as it always does), but I got a lot done (as I always do).
I got home from work at five, looking forward to dinner at 6:30, and decided to work out to keep myself from snacking. I spent forty minutes on the elliptical, and accidentally killed some townsfolk in Fallout 3. The rest of the town was pretty forgiving, though, and I got a new shotgun out of it. So win/win.
Then we went up to Ole for dinner with the McElroys. We’d had them over for dinner back in…I don’t know, March maybe, when Rob read Gods Tomorrow, so that we could discuss it. When I finished Expectation I gave him a copy and he devoured it, but then they left for a three week vacation, so we’ve only just gotten around to having dinner.
Anyway, I spent most of dinner wrestling with AB (who just wanted to have fun), and consuming my meal with a vigor and dedication that is rarely part of my countenance. Afterward, though, they came over to our house for brownies and I got to talk more.
They’re good people, and it was a fun night’s conversation. It was after 9:30 when they headed home and AB was still awake, so once we got her calmed down and in bed, it was past our bedtime, too. So there’s my whole night.
Oh! And then this morning I had a dream that I think is worth sharing. I found myself sitting at a picnic table in the ruins of an elementary school playground in the midst of a post-apocalyptic hellscape. I had a…well, I guess I’d call it a dual-monitor laptop. It was a contraption that folded open along the middle like a book to create a base platform, and then from there two laptops rose up side-by-side. It was a very cool device, and I got the impression it was one of the last computers in the world. Alas, it was a Mac.
I’m pretty sure, all alone in the midst of waste and destruction, I was checking my email.
Then while I was sitting there at the picnic table a gang came sneaking up behind me. The gang consisted of a sixteen-year-old prostitute (their leader), and then four or five of the gayest contestants from recent seasons of American Idol (which have featured a fair number of gay contestants).
The girl wanted to know more about my MacBook. The guys were all scared every time something exploded in the distance, but I could comfort them by singing a line of some show tune, and they’d all launch into it with (again) vigor and determination. The dream ended on “Blue Shadows on the Trail” from The Three Amigos.
Other than that, it’s just things and stuff.