One of these days, Monday will feel some other way than being wedged inside a black and white rerun of the Twilight Zone. That’s long been a goal of mine too, to look forward to Monday with the same intensity usually earmarked for the weekends. Despite my efforts, it seems that if something is going to go askew, it’ll be on Monday.

Take this particular one for instance. For months it’s been unseasonably cold for spring, nary a day over sixty five, with night time temperatures hovering near the forties. So I get the idea to load up on foods that require broiling, thinking the stove will heat up the place and make the apartment all toasty nice as dinner broils in a homemade marinate. Only today is the first day of a week long heat wave, and the low this week will shatter the high of last week.

Yeah, I’m real bright spark sometimes, I swear. Anyway, it’s time to go bake myself in the furnace, err, kitchen. Can’t have that roast exploding from neglect.

On the writing front, I decided to revisit The Ridge Runner for awhile while still pressing ahead with the first draft of Velocity. Either I’m going to soil both of them irreparably, or something cool will come of it.