In Which Our Heroine Pursues the List

8 December 2004

Wednesday, huh? That's what they tell me, but I'm not sure I credit it. I have lost track of time to an unprecedented level this week. I'm never any good with the labels on today, tomorrow, and yesterday, but usually I know which stuff is which. But this week, I've been running days together or stretching them out. Not predictably, either. It's strange. I often have the sense that one day is another, but usually I don't try to do the wrong things. I feel like I should put a sign on the door to the garage: "Do not go to airport yet." I spent the day convinced that it was Friday and I was supposed to go get Mark at the airport. It's Wednesday, and Mark won't be at the airport until Saturday.

Maybe it's time to sit still and take deep breaths.

I'm behind on everything. Really, really everything. I haven't been this behind in I don't know how long. Red Queen or White Queen, is it? I don't remember, and looking it up would take more time.

I'm reading Peter O'Donnell's Modesty Blaise, the cover of which got a startled look and question from Ceej when he saw it sitting on the counter. (It is of the "scantily clad woman with gun" genre of book cover.) I'm enjoying it -- it's good fun so far, and it doesn't push any of the bad buttons some spy/action novels push for me. There are more in the series, and DDB already lent me the second one along with the first (just in case), and he seems willing to lend the rest.

I don't spend time with people based on their willingness to lend me books. Really, really I don't. It's just a nice side benefit.

I have several things I have to make to put in packages for various people, and I think that's stuck in my head more than it needs to be. I have two weeks. Two weeks is a long time.

I have glitter all sorts of places from my silly, silly choice of Christmas cards.

I have Christmas cards returned already with the wrong address, and I haven't even sent half of them out in the first place.

I have a pile of paper on my desk driving me nuts. I can't find the Christmas baking/candy-making list. What will I do without the liiiiiist? Wailie. Woe. Everything stops until I find the list.

There it is. Whew. Okay. I can sleep easy. Particularly because I could cross four things off the list as made and another three as "no way no how."

Back to Novel Gazing.

And the main page.

Or the last entry.

Or the next one.

Or even send me email.