No, I'm just extremely hot and trying to escape the cloud of muggy mundaneity that has crept into my apartment and suffocates me at night. But at least it's barbeque weather.
Work continues, tedious as always but at least air-contitioned. Some days I dread going to work, but then when I return to my hot third-floor den I almost want to go back to my semi-constructive hotel duties. At least it keeps my mind and body occupied.
Escaping to a small chair on my roof becomes more and more frequent, but the pulsating silent sun as of late has made relaxing deadly in the daytime. Recording music is challenging when creativity is strangled by cynicism, but at least I was able to have a cold drink with Fade 13, another Corvallis musician who gave me three CDs of great music.
Beer has become a daily beverage, with or without others, but that can be blamed on the season.
And last night, while lying on the roof, Octavio and I saw a UFO fly by. So we spoke of the X-Files.
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