18 April 2003
I'm doing better today than I was yesterday, by far. Dr. Bill worked wonders on my back. Now the trick is keeping the wonders worked. I have a much harder time babying myself when I'm not actually in pain, but some intermediate amount of babying would probably be a good thing.
The food and wine at Pasta Primavera were good also, and I was in the mood to enjoy all of it, including my own jokes, which I still maintain are funny. (Despite Timprov's disagreement. And be it known that I was not the one joking about water tower equivalents to the French Revolution.) We attempted to go to our old coffeehouse in Concord, but they close at 5:00 now (lame!), so we took the scenic route back to Pleasant Hill and went to church at St. Mark's. Got to see some old friends, which was nice. It also highlighted the hazards of coming up with unfortunate but apt nicknames for people: I saw one woman and thought, "Well, hello, Mrs. Groupthink!" Obviously, not her name. But I couldn't for the life of me think of what her actual name was. Sigh. Came up with it in the car; hoping not to have to use it tonight or Sunday morning.
Some of you have popped up with nice e-mails after yesterday's entry. I thank you for that. I can use a bit of nice these days.
Ackack. Nobody got the mail last night. I suppose this doesn't qualify as a tragedy, as I can just go out and get it this morning as soon as I'm decent. But still.
I read a good chunk of Nina Kiriki Hoffman's A Fistful of Sky, and it's...all right, I guess, entertaining enough. Awfully focused on appearance, weight, and food for my taste, without saying anything interesting about them so far. But maybe she'll have a big finish on it. I guess we'll just have to see.
Yesterday I was writing my big Finnish, but it hurt, so I stopped. Today: more big Finnish novel. More work on short story drafts. More yoga, more reading, more chores, more good food (Black Diamond!), more church, more. More e-mail, from the looks of my inbox. Probably more phone calls. I already talked to the grands and Onie this morning (Onie is at the grands' house, so it was only one call). Possibly suppression of the desire to have still more phone calls than that.
Ooh, and more chocolate. In some form. Not sure what yet. I guess we'll see. I haven't had one of the biscotti yet. Hmm. I think my mom would say that it's never too early in the day for a biscotto. I had to look that singular form up, and I can't help hearing it in the voice of wossname, Snake? The criminal from The Simpsons.
I realize that this is a personal problem and none of you can help me with it. Still. "I want a biscotto." Gih. Maybe I should attempt to get a song in my -- YARG! NO!!!
I have to get to the point where the phrase "song in my head" does not automatically trigger that bit of "Carmen." Reallyreally. Personal problem. I know. I'm full of them.
It seems I'm always full of something.
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