I just finished Cory Doctorow's Little Brother. I'm kind of mystified by how I feel about it. It was predictable, occasionally moved forward on blatant, flimsy contrivances, and was full of that sort of too-mature teenager conceit that everyone hates about Juno, but I really liked it anyways. This must be what it's like to enjoy Gaiman.
I'm stalling here before taking off on my daily run. I'm super tired- If I slept at all last night, it wasn't long enough for me to have noticed it in between me checking my phone for the time- and I'm running on absolute fumes here. I want to go to the library today and pick up a couple more books on my reading list, but I'll probably put it off till tomorrow- but that's fine, I realize. I'll bring Genevieve.
I miss her pretty bad today. This part sucks.
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