Only to be awakened by a very early call from Michael, who said he wouldn't be ready to come home at the usual time for the weekend, as he had a doctor's appointment. Fine, OK, can deal with that. Slowly began to get up (stiffnesses from yesterday) and had just made it in here to turn on computers when the phone rang. The nurse from the group home, to explain that they had another case of scabies and were taking several of the residents to the dermatologist. (Michael's had one rash after another since he moved over there, and they want to think everything is scabies.)
This was after the desktop, which is finicky about starting, had done its thing of not showing me the "pick your option" long enough (the old monitor is a bit slow to light up fully some days) to avoid getting the blinking cursor instead of actually launching the OS.
I handed the receiver to Himself, who deals with these things better than I do (or it's my excuse) , got the desktop up and working, looked at last night's words...oh, dear. Well, they're words, they're relevant to the story, they're grammatically correct and correctly spelled. Aside from that, they show every evidence of having been written after midnight by a morning person. And they're boring. I want to smack both viewpoint characters upside the head and remind them that our job here is entertainment. We need oomph. We need sparkling dialogue, not something with all the sparkle of day-old porridge stuck to the side of the pot. What do they mean just standing there with their hands dangling loosely, uttering ordinary dull words???
So...nice bright marches, good and loud. This should work after a bit. One toe is already tapping. I don't know which regiment has "Gaudeamus Igitur" reformed into a jaunty march for its music, but it's just crazy enough that I can feel the mood changing. Hope so. Because if they come up with reason not to let Michael come home for the weekend, nobody's going to be happy about it. We had told him about a chance to go hear some special music he likes.