The clouds decided to remain all night, and the rain decided not to fall. Nothing happened, except for the crazy bird who has taken to bashing against my window before first light. Maybe it isn't a bird, though. It sounds the size of a bird, but maybe it's a giant flying insect. Whatever it is, it smacks into the window with remarkable force, repeatedly. I hope it doesn't drink blood.
I really must do something about the escape of the hours. I don't know where they go, but they must be hiding somewhere. I can't seem to keep track of them anymore. Their refusal to stay put is beginning to irritate me. My inability to make them serve any useful purpose is beginning to irritate me. I have the urge to hit myself on the head with a clock. Given a choice, though, I'd rather have the licorice.
I hope it rains more today.
