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All the Words and Art Happenings Up in Here

Seeing Midnight

I'm not usually up at this hour. It's after midnight and normally I'd have been wracked out for a few hours by now. A crap cold and a medicinal paradox effect seem to be at work.

You'd think I could find a cheesy Christmas movie on cable this time of year/night, but I draw the line at anything Tom Arnold is in. Even I, an inveterate watcher of camp holiday crappola, have some standards for crissakes.

It's raining so hard the drops bouncing off the deck railings and metal brick wall tops are loud enough to drown out the television anyway. Even Ginny the cat is out of sorts with this change in schedule. I figured she'd hang out with me on the couch, but so far she's been slinking around, half-heartedly bashing a toy or two about, wondering what's going on with this break in her routine.

Maybe it's the lull before the Christmas storm.

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