Purchase vendor table for San Antonio Lit Fest since I forgot the other day despite writing it on one of these to-do lists. GOTTA DO BETTER, MAX. GOTTA DO BETTER.
Repair credit card reader management somehow fucked up earlier today.
Mop the lobby and embrace the urge to turn my life into a musical once that mop’s in my hands.
Finish review of Jeff Strand’s excellent Cyclops Road and submit to cool website for potential reviewer job.
Watch the season premiere of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.
Continue article pitch for potential column gig with horror magazine I can’t yet name.
Continue that goddamn Lana Del Rey tribute story. Not just continue but finish the motherfucker.
Continue edits for novella by MYSTERY AUTHOR.
Try not to blow up in a fit of rage caused by further issues with my Mac. Call Apple and inform them I just spent $150 with Geek Squad to repair it (and it’s not even repaired yet because now I have to order a goddamn part from Amazon since they don’t carry that shit in the store for some weird fucking reason) and only now did I discover Apple recalled my very type of laptop because of a faulty sata cable. Guess what’s wrong with my laptop, you motherfuckers? Also, surely Geek Squad knew about the recall. Sneaky bastards, all of them.
Try not to punch the next person who says “THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR BUYING A MAC” in the face. Some people only exist to say “THAT’S WHY YOU SHOULD HAVE BOUGHT A PC/MAC” after listening to someone’s computer troubles, and let me tell you, when the bombs drop, their deaths will be mercy killings.
Cash my paycheck since I am notorious for losing my direct depositing sign-up sheet so I’ve settled on never having direct deposit. It’s just not my destiny.
Play some more Alien: Isolation.
Play some more Rocket League with the kid.
Rub Lori’s back.
Squeeze in a short nap somewhere between blowing up in a fit of rage and rubbing Lori’s back.
Catch a 10:45PM showing of La La Land at the Alamo Drafthouse in New Braunfels.