Can't cage a squirrel

So, it's the weekend again. I do enjoy my job to an extent because I love to read and consume such a unique variety of facts from the documents I edit. That said, my job is not difficult to leave at the door; sure, it lingers a few hours into Friday night. I usually don't begin to pay full attention to the writing and running, relaxing and, soon, biking (I'm finally getting back on the bike after a nasty spill when I was a kid) that counter an office job's effects on my body and mind. All that to say, it's Saturday, and I'm thrilled. I just finished recording one of my favorite stories to date, Getting There, which will show up in PANK sometime in August. (By the way, read the issue up there now: dynamite.) Recording a story is awakening, but I'll be damned if it didn't take me five tries to not stutter over this line: "When the peppy man at the rental agency popped her trunk, she felt remorse." There are tougher lines in the piece, but man, that one got me. And got me again.... as I said, five tries.

Other than the fact that reading aloud to my computer seems quite the task, what have I learned this week? Well, for one thing, squirrels can't be caged. (Thanks, CNN!) I learned that Nick Hornby's books are fun to read. I've learned about, and joined, Pinterest, which I don't entirely see the value of yet (I'm what you call a late adopter, not of the technology or service but of the mentality behind the technology or service). I kind of want to pin only really hideous things for a while. See how that goes. Oh, and I've learned that the longer I work in the corporate world, the more I love weekends. Kids and crowded stores and all. Happy Saturday!

This weekend, my goals include:  5,000 words of writing (not necessarily anything good, and this blog post doesn't count); win a game of Super Scrabble (which I've yet to play, but am thrilled about); relax (never happens in reality but always on the list); and most importantly, catch up on my reading. On my list/nightstand: Hornby (finishing HF), Julie Innis (fiction), and Joani Reese (poetry). Off to it.