A Day in the Mind of a Guy who's Losing One

Slept through class again. Not accidental. Woke up at around 10:00 and milled around the apartment for an hour, listened to some music and messed around on the internet until about 11:00. Decided to get some air, so I grabbed my headphones, my writing journal, and a few pens.

I walked south for a block to grab a small bag of doritos and an energy drink from the Hamlin Market, which I consumed as I walked north across the University Bridge towards the UW campus. While in the area, I stopped by the bank and cashed some birthday checks (as well as depositing a fat wad of 20s. My roommate thought it would be funny to pay me back for the rent via ATM).

From there I went around the corner to Twice Sold Tales and looked around. I was completely surprised to find not one, but three Christopher Anvil novels. Now, Anvil's not a household name, even within the sci-fi community, but I had discovered him through a short story collection put together by Robert Hoskins (the Stars Around Us). His story Ghost Fleet captured my imagination, not in that it had wildly fantastical ideas, but in the geniousness with which it was put together, including a compelling main character with compelling motives and epic twists.

I picked up one of the books for $4 and caught the 44 to Ballard, stopping halfway in Wallingford. From there I planned to walk down to Gasworks and read or write something. I got off one stop too late because I was absorbed in my book, and not having had breakfast I of course decided that another energy drink was in order.

It was quite a walk, longer than I anticipated, but the scenery was nice. The street was called Woodlawn, Ave. and it was highly suburban, so it was cool to see all the different homes there. Finally, I reached Gasworks.

It was a rare sunny day and so I stayed there for maybe an hour, just reading on the side of the hill until I felt it was time to go back. The book is highly enjoyable, which is good because you never really know when you pick something up... I walked along the Burke-Gillman trail, back up the Ave and up to Jimmy John's, where I had lunch, then onto campus to the computer I'm now sitting at typing this story to you. Along hte way I had various literary insights that I penned into my journal, and you'll likely see some incarnation of them in future posts.

Because every tragedy endured enables enlightenment.