Friday, May 21, 2004
The Philadelphia Flyers have forced a Game 7. Good for them. As a fan, I want every round to go seven games, because I want to watch a lot of good hockey. Many a player has rolled his eyes at me for that comment.
It looked like Tampa would win the Eastern Conference final, but with only 1:49 left in regulation, Keith Primeau scored the tying goal. And then, with only 1:42 left in the first overtime, Simon Gagne scored the winning goal. They transformed from a group of talented men into a joyous group of boys. It was a beautiful thing, and I can’t wait to watch Game 7 tomorrow.
Trivia: I was a Candystriper, working in the hospital, on the day Andre Roy of the Tampa Bay Lightening was born there.
I felt like a grinder today. The words did not flow. Every single one of them was a fight. I only got a half a chapter of Periwinkle done – I mean, come on now, I’ve promised Charlie his own book, what more does he want? Katie’s not suited to him anyway.
I did research and wrote up twenty chapters’ worth of notes for the Widow’s Chamber pages on the website.
I need to do some work on Angel Hunt.
And I don’t feel like doing a darned thing.
I want some interesting mail to come. Like a check. I’m really tired of the mail never getting here until 5 or 6 PM. The post office is only two blocks away, for crying out loud. And do they have to use leaf blowers around the building every single day? Repetitive machine noise drives me crazy (yeah, I know, it’s a short drive), and, no matter what time I sit down at my desk, as soon as the screen lights up, there go the blowers. And more than once a day. If you’re going to annoy me at 8:30 AM, then again at 10 and at 2:30, do you really have to come back with that machine at 4? It’s not like there’s a whole lot of landscaping around here!
In other words, when the writing’s not going well, every damn thing annoys me.
And my language deteriorates.