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Mmm. Just finished my lunch, which was an unexpected blue
cheese burger. I’m at work (during the DAY!), and while I brought food to eat
as I do every day, at 9am six or seven men showed up and started ripping apart
the kitchen. Truly. Ripping APART. Walls, cabinets, sink, they moved the fridge
into the hall and the microwave is blocking the supervisor’s office (he hasn’t
seen that yet, that should be something to watch).

Not sure yet what they’re doing in there yet. We have four
cabinets, one for each of our four shifts, filled with dry goods that are now
on the floor in the kitchen. And they said they’ll be done by Tuesday. Today is
Friday, isn’t it? This, in a 24 hour center, where we can’t leave the room during
our 12 hour shifts. We kinda need a working microwave. I went in to look for
salt and just gave up.

But the upside was that the cafeteria on the property was
open (DAYSHIFT! I’m telling you, it’s good stuff), and we sent a technician to
get us each a blue cheese burger. Which, when it came, was a bun, a burger,
with some blue cheese on it. That’s it, no dressings, no
lettuce/pickles/onions, even on the side. I just mushed it together, and I have
to say, it was damn good.

Have you seen the Mr. Bento? I want one, soooo badly. I have
$25 gift certificate to Amazon that I haven’t used yet, but I should use it for
an electric tea kettle; ours finally gave up the ghost. But that Mr. Bento.
Now, that’s a sexy lunchbox. (Search for Mr. Bento p0rn on flickr for some real
fun, but not when you’re hungry.)

I’m tired, and happy. Have been up since 430am, and I’m loving being still awake. Really. Because soon, I get to go to bed, and it will be DARK. I love sleeping at night. All day, all twelve hours of my shift, I bounced up and down for joy. Days! Days! I had no idea I would be so happy to rejoin the day-work force.

No time for much, though. Walked the dogs. Must eat something. Perhaps a bath. Tomorrow I will fit in a run, but today, I’m a tired slob, and really, it’s quite nice.

Sleep well, won’t you?

Normally, I wouldn’t do this, cross-pollinate the Yarn and Run of the A-Go-Go, but I have a bra confession, and it’s over there.

I am better, thank you. Midnight shifts are OVER. I shall be more human again. I got some sleep. I have learned that there is possibly nothing prettier than a very black, very short dog running through tall shiny green grass on a hill overlooking the San Francisco Bay. That will improve any mood, no? As will a run around Lake Merritt, which I am headed for right now.

(Gratuitous red shot here. It’s more cinnamon than red. I like it — I forgot to keep the box, though!)

I am frustrated. I am a good completer-of-things. I get things done. I follow through. Why, then, why can’t I finish a book?

I would like to finish writing a book. There. That’s all I’m thinking
this morning. The long novel, the 500+ page one, is within fifty
pages of being done. Yes, I’m sure of it. The middle book, that’s
within a hundred pages. The Nanowrimo romance, that’s within perhaps
twenty or thirty pages of completion.

I know, of course, that these are rough drafts. First drafts. They can be changed, ripped apart entirely. I can get the ending done and redo it later. Why don’t I just do it, then? Aargh.

I won Nanowrimo, which means that I wrote 50,000 words in November. See? Completion, of a sort. But the book wants to be about 75,000 words, though, which is why it isn’t Done.

And so instead of sitting down daily to finish things up, I start things like Runagogo to distract myself. Wonderful, that thing has turned out to be. Scout was right to encourage the idea to have its own website. Now I’m hooked on watching it, watching people post. I’m spending time running. It’s a Project, and I adore projects. I need projects.

I just want my project to be writing, you know? I’m so easily distracted by shiny things or timesaving devices or the internet or knit-design ideas or chocolate, and it’s just so hard to sit down and write sometimes.

Also, I’m whiny. ONE MORE NIGHT and I’m done with midnight shift, possibly FOREVER. That is something to celebrate. Instead, I’m unreasonably irritated with my coworkers, with the temperature, with my brainwaves. My face is itchy from dryness. I want to brush my teeth. I would like to eat ice cream but I have none. I had the WORST RUN EVER today.

I have the mean reds. They’re not bad, and they’ll pass, but I will certainly be glad to get home and go to bed. I don’t even dare knit — I’ll screw something up, and how.

Perhaps yogurt with granola will help. I’ll give it a shot.

Hooray the sitting on of children! Especially cute godbabies. (Some limited knit-content to follow, but don’t get your hopes up too high — only a small baby-sweater-sighting.)

Dylan reached for Miss Idaho, over and over, and Miss Idaho kept pulling up one eyebrow and leaning backwards, pretending like nothing was happening. This was INSTEAD of just jumping off the couch and Lala’s lap, which, of course, she wouldn’t do.

DYLAN RIDING CLARA! I love this picture. And how patient lovely Clara is.

Seriously, when you ask your fairy godmothers to watch your son, don’t blame them if they think baby-in-sink is a good photo-op. It is.

And he only learned to turn the faucet on in the very last four seconds of this sequence.

If that ain’t red, I’ll eat my hat. Or yours.

We went to Pt. Isabel to look at the Bay and at all the dogs. Dylan played it cool in his new Christmas sweater from Auntie Rachael and his hat which matches Auntie Lala.

Look at them, would you? I totally, like, needed to use the phone the night before, but Lala was on, like, a two-hour phone call with Dylan, figuring out what they were going to wear. I know, right? Right?

Wave ’em in the air like you just don’t care.

I just got back from a run and I had a training class ALL day, and have another one tomorrow, so that is all. Ex and oh.

I’m going to dye my hair red in a few minutes. No more blonde. On to something new.

Tonight: The Devil Makes Three in San Francisco. They’re one of my favorite bands — kind of rockabilly pirate music. I see they’re on iTunes — try The Plank on for size, and you’ll be hooked.

I’m deliciously sleepy right now. Full belly, because I choose to the run the right way — I came home from my run and iMEEJiately made a grilled cheese sammich because my GOD, I burned all those calories! Mustn’t waste away!

It’s my weekend. I have no brain cells. I’m inordinately tickled by the response the Runagogo thing has received. I totally just meant it, in the beginning, to be a few knitting runners keeping tabs on each other. Now it’s spiralled into a HUGE group of people, moving in whatever way they like (we even have a swimmer!), and encouraging each other. People are good.

And so are you. Have a lie-in this weekend if you can, huh? We’ve got our godson tomorrow, and I can’t to squeeze him ALL day. I’m going to see if he wants to ride Clara. 

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