Jsut finished reading George Orwell's
Burmese Days. While I'd recommend it as a novel (semi-memoir, apparently), I have to do so with certain reservations. It's funny and well-written and a good story and no doubt a fairly accurate portrayal of a certain time and place -- Burma under colonial rule. But god, it's bleak. Such a dark and dingy view of human nature, if I really believed people were like this all the time, I would have a hard time finding reasons to get up in the morning. So hey, either read it when you're in a cheerful enough mood to resist its dreary cynicism, or, if you're someone who can do this, read it when you're able to sink right down into the depths with Orwell, letting him confirm every misanthropic thought you've ever had. Oof.
I'm going to read something cheerful next, I swear.
This weekend, continue catching up on e-mail and paperwork. Yesterday I wasn't feeling so good, so after working out (for the first time in forever), mostly took the day off; watched masses of tv, and only did two errands -- to the guitar store to get a new string, so I could practice a bit before my lessons start, and to the Container Store for various small household organizers. Stackable shelves for bathroom cabinets, hangars, door hooks, stacked baskets for root vegetables. We loves the organizing, my precious...