I mention the rain in yesterday’s post, but I forget to post the picture I’d taken of the deluge outside my apartment. I veer off on that Eric Shaeffer rant instead.
I think it’s because yesterday is Lauren’s birthday and I feel like I’d rather write about a director who drives me crazy than compose a thoughtful, delicate note to her. It’s like the difference between building a giant boulder out of papier mache and folding an origami swan. The boulder is a hell of a lot easier.