April is the cruelest month
... at least in terms of weather around here. Rain and wind for the next few days -- blech.
Nathan Fillion's new show, Drive, premiered tonight, so Resident Evil and Joiner and I watched over pizza and French fries. Mmm, Nathan Fillion. Tasty. The show wasn't too bad -- it has promise. You can never quite tell with pilots, I think. More often than not, a series takes a few episodes to find its footing, for the actors to feel out their characters' identities, for the premise to get comfortable with itself. For my 3L paper, I'm trying to write a television show pilot, and while it's terrific fun, it's not as easy as I thought it might be to create believeable, likable characters with dilemmas that an audience like me and my friends might care about. But it really is amazingly fun. I talked tonight to Resident Evil and Joiner about some problems I've been having with the storyline and characters, and Resident Evil gave me a great idea for the central conflict of the pilot. Whee! So much more fun than law.
I slept about 13 hours last night, which I really needed to do, and under the influence of Benedryl, which my doctor recommended as "the number 2 sleep aid in the country." It definitely knocks me out, but the problem is that in the morning, I'm so groggy, it takes several hours to regain any semblance of coherence. In order to catch up on the sleep I need, though, I've been taking it about once a week, on the weekends. Sigh. It's a bitch, not being able to sleep well.
I went to bed last night without calling Sweet, Smart Scientist. I was annoyed, but decided to interpret his "feel free to call me" comment in the most neutral and generous light possible (I've gotten good at this through mediating disputes in small claims court), which was this: he sounds like he needs a little space, so fine -- take the space you need, and call me when you're ready, dude. And lo and behold, he called tonight, and we talked for about 45 minutes. I told him about the networking thing and prom. He said he was in the lab until 10 last night. I refrained from asking, "Why the hell were you so cranky yesterday?" since my generous interpretation appeared to be correct. It was nice. I like telling him about my day. He listens well.
It's kind of weird to be dating someone so formally. I see him once during the week, and then one night on the weekend. We talk on the phone two or three evenings. There might be some email contact the other days. It's very ... orderly. Somewhat of a formalized dance of interactions and communications. I am not very formal, so it's a bit bizarre. But there's a certain comfortable predicability to it, I suppose.
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