26 October 2004
I have eyes! My contacts came in yesterday, and I went and got them and wore them home. I have to go in next Monday to make sure they're the right thing when my eyes have had a chance to adjust to them. They're at least nearly right, but we'll see if I need a different prescription next week.
I missed having contacts so much.
I can't wait for this week to be over. Not only will Mark come home (with news, we hope), but we will get this stupid election out of the way. Is anybody undecided on whether they're going to vote, even? Much less how? One of my best friends just forwarded me a political joke that I knew, intellectually, was funny; I knew that it was one of those laugh-or-you'll-cry things, and it made me extremely sad. Bitter humor is the only kind that really applies in this election, and I'm having a very hard time whistling in the dark.
On the up side, I have good stuff to work on here, visible progress on a number of happy projects, so I'm not wallowing too much in politics. I'm wallowing in book instead. My book; I'm afraid The Yellow Cross is boring me silly. For the amount of sex and heresy (and sometimes heresy-related sex! and sex-related heresy!) in this book, you would think it would be fairly interesting. You would be wrong.
Also, Ginger and I went to the coffee place Dena and I discovered, and it was good. There was no one else there at 4:30 in the afternoon, and I had a bite of Ginger's carrot cake, and it was good. Even though carrot cake is way down the list of good cakes in my world.
I begin to see the advantage of using index cards for notes on the book. You can write something on an index card and have a spot for what chapter (if you know that), and you can add to it if it needs elaboration. And you can reorder the notes and not end up with creased sheets of paper written in a dozen different colors of ink with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was. Hmm. I may just have talked myself into making note cards out of my messy pages-of-note. Here's what: I'm going to try to work on "Swimming Back from Hell by Moonlight" and on Thermionic Night, and if I hit hard snags on both and have a hard time wrapping my brain around them, I'll make index cards and see if that helps. Okay? Okay then.
And the main page.
Or the last entry.
Or the next one.
Or even send me email.