rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Saturday, For Me, Is Like Any Other Day

I thought I heard a fox bark a while ago, but I might have been mistaken. It might have been merely a small dog with a cold. If it was a fox, than it was the first I've heard in several years. This would be the time of year they'd most likely be wandering this far into town. This is when the younger foxes seek new territories of their own, and looking for mates. I remember that they used to whistle to one another, as well as making their distinctive, gravelly barks. I think the whistling is part of their mating ritual. There has been no whistling tonight. It probably was just a domestic dog.

The fan is back in the window, helping to keep the room cool with fresh night air. It isn't quite cool enough, though. Sluggo has done spontaneous reboots, and has shown me multiple blue screens. I'm beginning to think that maybe I ought to keep the computer with the monitor that would have to be Mickey Moused. At least (as far as I know, being that I've never set it up and booted it) it probably wouldn't be as utterly unreliable as the Slug. I do not relish the arrival of the hot weather. But one more brief respite at least may be in store. Rain is predicted for Sunday, though today is expected to be warm and sunny. Spring is a changeable time, and is apt to bring many swift reversals. Well... that's better than monotony.
Subscribe

  • 52/27: Feeble

    The sun has returned to trouble me with the distressingly high contrasts it creates. Everything is the shade fades to obscurity and everything bright…

  • 52/26: Drippity

    Here's that dream I saved, one of those leftover maybe rainy days. It was rainy earlier, and will probably be rainy later, but at the moment it's…

  • 52/25: Sunny, Alas

    For the first time in days I woke to bright light streaming through the blinds, and it made me sad. There had been rain almost all day Tuesday, and I…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 0 comments