Hey, my mailman’s back from vacation! God bless a good mailperson. He knows the days I’m up and the days I sleep (and leaves packages without knocking at the back door if I have the blinds drawn).
And he just brought me a present, from Dear Reader Sparkle, FOLK SOCKS! What a gorgeous, gorgeous book, one that I’m going to read like a novel, from cover to cover, preferably under covers. Perfect. Thanks, darlin’.
Today is my day off. I have errands to run, but nothing immediately pressing. I’m not writing today, either, as I need a day to myself with no Work or work. The space heater is running, and the cats are just now coming down off the refrigerator (dogs just left), and while Adah looks comfortable, Digit has that look on his face like I’ve hidden a couple of extra dogs under the bed to scare him with later. He’s not buying my innocent routine.
Weekend: Great. I went out drinking on Saturday night with m’girl, to a birthday party at Tango Tango, a karaoke bar in the City, and I drank a lot. Only three martinis, but apparently I am O.L.D., because they knocked me on my ass (that and the pain meds I was on for girl stuff. I am smart that way). But I sang a lot, and Lala said she was impressed. That was my main goal, anyway, so I wasn’t TOO drunk. (And she was driving, so she was sober when she said it.) But oh, the hangover yesterday. It wasn’t the sick-feeling kind, it was the vertigo kind. Way worse.
I just wrote a whole paragraph on what I ate for dinner last night (it was great, the new New Zealander in Alameda — two words: meat pies), but realized that when I start talking about food, I am truly boring. (That’s a real person, you know. Truly Boring made a report of a lost driver’s license last year. F’real.)
Also, I got a call from Kira while I was at the New Zealander, reminding me that we had planned to have dinner at THEIR house that night. I’m an asshole. Really. This is my public, embarrassed apology. Waaah. I have NO memory. They’re coming over tonight, and I plan to…. Well, I don’t know, since I don’t cook. But I’ll think of something nice for an apology.
I’m going to knit now. Hooray!
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