Tonight I realized that I’ve been taking things too seriously the last few days. Laura and I have been arguing more, and I’ve been stressed about everything–from work to finances. Even my old mantra, “it’s just money,” hasn’t been doing me any good.
Everybody’s wallets get a little thin this time of year, and this morning I checked my online statement. I found that I was negative by like $150. Of course, I’d been carrying around a check from Laura for like $300 that I hadn’t deposited on account of my being sick and all, so immediately I started stressing about how many late fees I was going to rack up because of this crap.
We had family dinner at my dad’s place at noon; so on the way over, I stopped by the bank and asked them about it. Turns out I wasn’t negative yet, and if I deposited some dough, I’d be all set. So I did; and I am. …All set that is.
This has been movie weekend for me. Yesterday we watched The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, (which made me want to read The Portrait of Dorian Grey), and today it was Terminator 3 and Barbershop. We’ve still got Donnie Darko to watch from the video store, and a stack of like 5 or 6 new ones to watch whenever we get around to it, including Bringin’ Down Da’ House, the Charlie’s Angels sequel, Daddy Daycare, and Eight Crazy Nights.
I thought T3 was pretty decent. Left me wanting more, as was certainly intended. And it didn’t suffer from the usual “sci-fi really means fantasy” problem that I usually have with big budget Hollywood sci-fi. By this I mean that there is usually some plot point, often in the all-important climax of the movie that breaks out of the realm of possible science, and into the land of fantastic speculation. There are more examples of this in Hollywood sci-fi than there are of good solid science fiction, so I’m not going to go into any details here.
I’m going to get back to my reading. I hope to finish up The Catcher in the Rye before I go to bed here any minute.