I am tired. I had high hopes of entertaining you with photos of the vigil last night (but I’m sure you realize that even with my best intentions, candlelit photos mostly turn out blurry. There’s an artistic effect to that, but it’s obviously accidental, and therefore seems just silly). But this: It was beautiful, and I’m happy and proud Christy went with me. There were probably about 150 people there, standing in front of city hall (not bad for 24 hours notice), holding candles silently for forty-five minutes. Every race and age were represented. No one acted stupid. All the children were wonderful. I’m not sure if there was Benadryl involved, but they sat and held their candles and for the most part, just stared into the flames.
Oh, all right. I can hear you. I actually got up to get the camera to download the pictures. See how responsible I am? (If only that would translate to laundry. There’s still a camping clothes pile in my room, and it’s only getting higher by the day. Must. Do. Laundry.) Anyway, I did manage one okay shot of the vigil:

I had to sneak out just a few minutes early to go to work, which was located about a hundred feet behind the vigil, and I have to say, walking through the PD parking lot holding a candle, wearing a PACE flag wrapped around my waist felt good. Very, very odd. But good. I then became seriously annoying at work, I’m sure, because I brought over a bunch of voter reg forms and pretty much hurled them at people, but I’ll be damned if I’ll work with anyone not registered to vote. The women I work with are too smart to be missed on election day. But I’m sure they wanted to punch me in the snoot. “Yes, Rachael, I’m registered. Just because YOU realized you moved and hadn’t re-registered and had a minor freak-out in the grocery store the other day when it occurred to you doesn’t mean I’m an idiot as well.” Well, yeah. They didn’t say that, but they were thinking it. I could tell.
All right, I’m still tired. I don’t want to go in to work tonight. I think I’m over this whole work thing. You know those people who say, “If I won the lottery, I’d still work?” Nah. If I won the lottery (too bad I don’t play), I’d be happy to stay home and listen to music and write and knit and stare at bad TV. Happy, happy, happy. I get a hell of a lot done usually, but I am lazy at heart. Really, truly lazy, and I can feel the lazy blood singing to me today.
This weekend is going to be packed—hoping to see Banjo Girl tomorrow for at least a walk with dogs in the afternoon (she owns the two dogs I like best, which is handy), and then tomorrow night I Must Do Laundry if I have any shot at all at having any clothes to wear on Sunday’s run. Sunday’s run is seventeen miles.
Did you hear me? Oy. Seventeen.
I can’t even think about that. Having not completed the last long run (14 miles), I’m positively terrified. Out of my mind.
Not thinking about it.
Really. I’m not. See how much I’m not thinking about it (biting nails, tapping feet, twitch twitch twitch).
Here’s someone who’s REALLY not thinking about it. And he didn’t pee in the house today. Someone give us a gold star.

Really. A cat like that, purdy flowers, and knitting needles? That shot makes me happy. Happy weekend, all.

