Tonight Ken is out with the guys, so I'm home alone. I went for a walk so I could write without guilt, but I find myself wanting nothing more than a peanut buster parfait, fuzzy slippers, and a chick flick. So far I'm resisting temptation. World Fantasy Con is a month away and so that is kind of kicking my ass into gear on my edits. So far I've come up with some good ideas for improvements--switch these two events, make this happen later, etc.--as well as cleaning up the prose, so it's moving along. I'm also doing laundry. Oh, the joys of adulthood.
I have to say I enjoyed my walk. If it had been about five or ten degrees cooler it would have been the perfect fall afternoon. Someone's burning leaves perfumed the air, kids were outside playing, and I was jamming to my ipod. I stopped by the drugstore for allergy medicine and two girls were in the makeup aisle at obsessing over eyeshadow. I believe the local high school's homecoming game was last night, so it made me wonder if they were buying goodies to wear to the homecoming dance this evening. On my way home I thought about how I always felt on a night of a dance--a little jittery (I hope so-and-so asks me to dance), a little excited (about the clandestine drinking I would be doing before and after), a little insecure (probably about my Wal-Mart outfit or my extra twenty pounds). Of course, I was too cool to let on that I was feeling that way, so I had to act as blase about the standing in the keg line as everyone else. Those nights always seemed so mysterious and full of possibilities to me. I wonder if those girls at CVS feel the same.