Doolies is throwing pears at me. This is how my night has gone. (Okay, the facts: Doolies was sharing a yummy cut-up pear and threw one of the last pieces from her desk to mine. Her throw was good and I kept my eye on it, but it ended up under my desk—I’ll leave it to you to imagine the type of athlete I was growing up. A quick rinse and the pear in now in my belly, a welcome relief from a salty pizza dinner. So it’s not as bad as I pretend.)
My mother arrived safely and helped out with Dinosaur already. She’s off to bed to recover from the cross-country flight. I don’t know if it’s the low oxygen levels or the wrong pressure, but flying is exhausting. We’re starting to plan our NY and Taiwan trips, and I’m drained just thinking about it.
It’s still cold here, colder than in NYC even. I heard that it was even cold in California. Even if only at night, that’s some weird weather patterns.
Last night was tough. I was up parts of the night and then up at 3 or 4 for the rest of the morning. Or parts of it. I forget now. Tiger and I braved the cold for a lunch outing and a jaunt to the airport. Otherwise I wandered the house, did a bit of work, and now I’m writing instead of watching anime. I’m not even sure I want to watch anime. I’m beginning to doubt my sanity.
I started to write something. Like a story. But not really. I was inspired after I finished the first (of what I hope are many) George Saunders’ story. Yet another college friend is also writing, and I’m feeling left out of this whole writing thing. Throwing just thoughts on the page is something rather than nothing, but it may not be the something I’m looking for, says the Jedi master.