Ah, the truck started. Bash and I, therefore and of course, went to the lake. The lake is taking over the land--the trail was nearly completely flooded. So the lake was a wash, in fact. Except we got enough freedom to make life livable again. And it was so beautiful, the steam rolling off the steel gray winter water, the soggy leaves, the bare trees. I nearly couldn't get out of there--the ground grows ever swampier and the truck almost sunk. So I guess it's a good thing we didn't stay longer.

Ok, so that was earlier. The truck, however, will no longer start. Stupid machine. I can't figure it out. There is no pattern to this madness--well, except the only difficulty comes in this damp. But sometimes it starts right up, sometimes it sputters and then is fine, sometimes, like now, it doesn't do anything. Used to be, once I got it going in the morning, I was fine the whole day through. Used to be, the trouble was in proportion to the wet--like if it was raining really hard I had a harder time. Now? Who bloody well knows. Stupid stupid truckhead.

I had planned to go up and see Jeff's piece in the paper show. Damnation. It's awfully icky outside, I'm not sure yet if I have the necessary fortitude to walk up there. The cold and the rain make me want to bundle up on the couch with Miss Eliza Bennett. Man.

I have to grade five million (yes I do I am not exaggerating) tests today. And plan the first unit of drama for class tomorrow. Blah.

Yesterday I began the Great Cleaning Project. I threw away every single extraneous piece of paper and rubbish in the living room and DUSTED. I never dust. I never throw things away. I also set up a more bookshelves (compliments of Bathsheba) and filled them with my booksale treasures.

Ok that's it. This entry is done, finished, finito. I am not going to be a procrastinator butt anymore. Ta darlings. Enjoy the drippy day.