I'm an idiot

As it turns out, I'm more productive as a writer when I turn off the Internet connection. Who knew? Oh, that's right, EVERYBODY. ;-)

I've had two 1100-word sessions in a row. It feels good to be back to my old production level. This is a good thing since all of my progress will halt in a week once Caitlin ends summer school. At that point, all of my energy will go into my two nonfiction projects.

Not much else going on around here. It's so quiet, in fact, that my kooky brain is creating things to be worried about. Entropy + Home Ownership = ANXIETY

I'm still watching Agatha Christie mysteries like an obsessed fiend. Why do I find British society murders set between the World Wars so cathartic? This dates back to the summer after 5th grade when I started reading Christie. There's something oddly reassuring about Poirot and Marple creating order out of the chaos of murder.

Unfortunately, rarelylynne won't let me grow a Poirot mustache. :(