Beauty Is a Whore

I like money better.*

it's been about books more often lately than writing.  today, a little of both.

I am nearly done with the Sherlock adventure.  There's less than a quarter of the book left... i actually knew the answer to the one i read today.  The Adventure of the Six Napoleons.  as soon as Lestrade said that two had been broken.  i was like "something's inside them!"  win.

I started The Hours, the third book of the Meryl Streepathon (*which is where this quote comes from).  This is the second, for sure, and possibly third book that also mentions her within the book.  i will be keeping count of that too.  i find it interesting that she is so very knit into the very fiber of the world.  because Meryl Streep is fabulous.  denying this would be like blasphemy.

I am unable to go with the husband and the baby to the family trip intended on taking with them.  But this leaves me 10 days free of... everything, it seems.  Sure, i have two jobs still but those eight to ten hours of being at home after, five of those days totally free of the real job.  i felt i had to make a to-do list to make sure i had something to do every day and i wouldn't go mad, so used to being busy i am...

but i filled it up beyond what i can probably do.  I miss so much the things i got to do when the husband and i were alone.

On all of my off days i will be spending a few hours at the coffee shop with my laptop and my headphones, a glass of iced coffee and probably a peanut butter cookie.  and i will take the chopped up hunks of The Guide and i will put it back together the way it belongs.  that's four days, maybe five.  how much can i get done?  half of it, at least, i hope.  how many cigarettes will i smoke (because come on, i'll be alone for a week.  yeah, i'm gonna buy a pack of cigarettes) a lot, i forsee.