The occasional undignified flailing just before slamming oneself into a wall running as fast as one can.
Didn't even hit the dang ball...
Dinner was burrata, basil, heirloom grape tomatoes, good vinegar and better olive oil, served alongside the wicked temptation that is Safeway's fried chicken. It's not NEARLY as good as Zesto's fried chicken, but it's a lot closer to my apartment.
Also, I have finished The Twelve. If you happen to run across Justin Cronin, and he is not writing, please remind him that I NEED MORE.
Same's true for Patrick Rothfuss, now that I think about it.
George RR Martin very much used to be in this same category, but, while A Dance with Dragons was head and shoulders above A Feast for Crows, the waits between books have just gotten to be ridiculous, and I've given up caring how the story ends. I remember when the third book came out in 2000, and my British connections allowed me to score a copy before it was published in the US. In the intervening 12 years, we've gotten a total of two more books. Whee. I could have written a whole series myself by now.
Hey, wait a second...
Tomorrow, ADVENTURE!! :)