I didn’t think of anything. Did you think of anything? My mind’s a total blank.

Ray, what have you done?

Lulu.com just sent me a kind inquiry into how my first week with them went. As I’ve never signed up with them for anything, unless Ambien or automatic writing were involved, I find it difficult to give them a coherent answer.

In other news, I tidied my writing folders on the PC today, and am preparing to shove a zipped version up to the cloud. I ran across a writing exercise I did circa 2005 (which I started editing, because I can’t help myself) and a couple of shorts I submitted a few places before I moved on to newer (and usually better) things. These are now ensconced in folders with more helpful names than the “Other” I had dropped them in previously.

Me, December 23, if they don’t turn off the music

Unrelated note: November 15 is not when anyone sane wants to start hearing Christmas music. Whatever corporate behemoth owns the three generic pop stations I scanned through last night in my car needs to look at a calendar. It’s a well-known scientific truthoid that the higher suicide rates around the Holiday Season are directly connected to weeks of hearing every possible iteration of the same twenty songs played over and over. Every extra day means another jumper, people. Just say no to ho ho ho, at least until Black Friday.