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selling yourself I woke to the sound of rain this morning. The open window let the sound come through clear and unmuffled. ... Driving to work on a Saturday night is always fun. I get to run the gauntlet of high school kids out cruising the streets. It's the same every week, but it still makes me laugh. The highlight last Saturday was when some generic joe stud squealed his tires at the intersection. I have no idea who he was trying to impress, but it made a great story to tell Ann. After hearing this story Ann decided that she needed to make a sign to hold up when she goes cruising along that strip of road. On the sign she had written: Call me for a good time. Then beneath that come hither phrase there was a phone number. It was Donna's phone number. ... The almost continual rain this morning made it easy to stay inside and read. I still had about a hundred pages or so of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man to plow through before tomorrow. Plow sounds like a horrible word, but James Joyce is not something that I can speed read. Thankfully having read the book once before I had a vague memory of what was going to hapen next in the book. ... Due to a change in her work schedule, dinner with Ann didn't happen. Instead of going out to eat we took in a late show at the movies. Not surprisingly we almost had the entire theater to ourselves. Monday night is a not a popular night for going to the movies even with all of the rain coming down for most of the day.
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