The hail and lightning followed me here. The weather is awesomely shitty.
My leg, predictably, is fucking killing me. So here I sit in the hotel
suite, writing. Which I actually find weirdly relaxing. As you can see,
however, there appears to be some kind of observation dome trained on me
from over the street.
Did a TV interview for The Space Channel today, which they made very
smooth, though I'm sure I was crap. Doing the talk tonight, which I'm
going to be even worse at.
My hotel room seems to be the only place in Toronto I can smoke in. It's
like inland fog in here now.
Back to writing Great Works Of Literature.