It’s another Sunday, and I have to say after the mentally (and emotionally) grueling day yesterday, you’d excuse me if I felt entitled to a day cooped up in my room feeling sorry for myself. Luckily this time my father, for once, set me straight, if only to remind me that I can’t stay up cooped up in the room, as my cousin has to clean it for the weekend. So, it was out of bed, and into the real world once again.
That said, as soon as my cousin finished with her duties, it was back to bed, not to sulk, but to recoup some of that disturbed sleep. No surprise, the next time I woke up it was almost eleven already. Oh well.
Other than that, this was as close to a relaxed weekend as they could come. Well, aside from the fact that I had to leave in the afternoon for a quick visit to the Greenbelt Powerbooks branch to look for some books. Specifically, I needed Jessica Hagedorn’s The Dogeaters, and an example of 19th-century literature to crib from, in this case one of Charles Dicken’s books. Instead of the more well-known choices, I elected to get something I actually haven’t read before: Hard Times.
Speaking of Hard Times (the book of course), I have to say that Dickens’ prose seems so much… wordy than I remembered it to be. I guess that writers were paid per word back then (doubly so in Dickens’ case, as his books started out as serials), so the descriptions were as thick as possible. Seriously, a single page (back-to-back) to introduce a character?
Anyway, just a few more things, then bed. Feeling kind of burnt out after I got back, so I guess I’m still feeling the aftereffects from yesterday.