imaginarycircus

I'm awake as of 4:30. Yeah, pm. >_>

I showered. I got dressed. I walked to the coffee shop. I got the good window seat, but one of the bad chairs. I have a skim latte. And a copy of The Aeneid.

Everyone in the Aeneid is a drama queen. I never realized it before, but it's totally Iliad fanfic with OCs. I'm going to get through this by laying it out here. This thing was written like 19 BCE.

( No, there is too much. Let me sum up. )

I locked myself out of the apartment again for the second time this week! *facepalm*

A neighbor let me into the building and I am waiting outside our door, but at least I get the internet out here.

eta: Wooster cat knows I'm out in the hallway and is sitting by the door crying at me. :(

Crazy old math guy got into a spat with another customer at the coffee shop, a customer who is a friend of mine. IDEK. They were arguing about whether the Khmer-Rouge was as bad as the Nazis--I gather. Since Raymond lived through the Khmer-Rouge he has every right to feel that way I think. Not an argument I'd get in the middle of. Ever. But crazy old math guy was trying to get people to agree with his side today and then turned to me suddenly and said, "Have you had any luck publishing?"

And I was like--publishing what? The novel? Not yet. He exclaimed, "Good. I think publishing is terrible." And he also told me he has faith in me and that his friend was the greatest undiscovered writer for a long time until he got published. IDEK. O_o