My daughter just went to bed. My wife and son have been asleep for over an hour. I'm by myself right now. Alone with my thoughts, as the old saying goes. Well, I'm not quite alone. I'm with Micheal Douglas and Frances McDormand, two of my favorite actors. It's the movie The Wonder Boys, which is about a novelist with writer's block who has a really bad weekend. His wife leaves him. His lover tells him that she's pregnant. He shoots and kill his lover's husband's pitbull. On top of all of that, he has a 2,000-page manuscript that he doesn't know how to end.
I was supposed to be watching this film with my daughter, who requested that I pick out a comedy. So I picked one of my favorites. Ten minutes in, she looked over at me and said, "Daddy, I'm going to bed." I sort of glared at her over my glasses (a tactic of intimidation that I employ with my students--it didn't work with my daughter). "I promise I'll watch it with you tomorrow night," she said as she walked to her bedroom door.
Thus, I am alone, on the verge of the weekend. I have some Bailey's Irish Cream in the cupboard. Considering using it with some hot chocolate. Then it would be me, Michael Douglas, and special hot chocolate.
Frost advisory last night. Cloudy with a chance of meatballs tomorrow.
Saint Marty doesn't even own an umbrella.