|Found upon Googling "old car on rocket fuel". |
Thank you Hemmings Daily.
Castagna-bodied 1913 A.L.F.A. Aerodinamica
I was rocketing along, ROCKETING I tell you, a good fifty minutes! And then I had to get ready for work. I wanted to scream. I sincerely felt like crying and fully and completely resented the fact that I had to put and clothes and NOT WRITE FOR HOURS AND HOURS. I only had ten minutes to get ready for work. I decided last second to take my laptop with me.
"Yeah, but you know if you take it you probably won't have any time to work. You'll be fully scheduled."
It's a bit of a bother to disentangle the laptop from my desk and pack it up. Then I'd have to reconnect everything when I got home. Really only a few extra minutes though. Stop whining! You're doing so well right now and you need to make these notes. You know you're brain keeps losing things! Look what happened when you had figured out how to close that plot hole in the space station story. It was a really annoying, glaring plot hole that sort of made the whole story contrived, a hole about the artifact and why it was where it was and how it affected everyone.
And when I figured out the brilliant solution I didn't write it down because I thought surely something THIS big I'll remember! And yet...I didn't. I'm certain since I worked it out once I can do it again. But if I'd written it down that would save time of me having to, since I'm getting such a late start at this book thing.
I did it, disentangled and disconnected everything and luckily my computer bag was right there and I even remembered my mouse, without that I'm screwed because I turned off the internal touch pad because reasons too long to go into.
I did all this quickly, almost the second I rejected the first objection, before my brain really had time to tell my body NOT to do it. I mean, really, is it that hard? It ain't rocket science. It ain't even regular science. It's unplugging some stuff and stuffing that stuff into a bag and remembering to take the bag and using the stuff once you get there.
|Pictured: The thing that it was not, fifties style.|
Remington Rand Computer, San Diego Air and Space Museum Archive: http://flic.kr/p/8DvPdY
|The Bay Psalm Book, 1640: first book (believed to be) written |
and published in what is now the United States.
In November 2013 it sold for $14,165,000.
In fact, I don't want even a million. Too much money is too much hassle. Enough to be fairly comfortable and not have to work if I want while I write the next book and save some for retirement. Which if I'm writing for a living I'm not going to be doing, retiring that is.
Really, just enough to be comfortable and write as a lifetime vocation. Bliss.
Also, sharing silliness and random stuff is fun. Someone, somewhere may stumble across it and have a laugh for the day. That's a good thing.
Just have to remember not to get too sucked in to my work. I have to glance up at the schedule monitor every fifteen minutes to make sure I don't have a last minute session. I am supposed to be earning money and helping people while I'm at work.