I didn't get nearly enough done today - in fact, now that I look back upon the ravaged wasteland that was my day, I don't really know what happened to it. This, I do know: I should have gotten up when my alarm went off at 7:30, but instead, I laid in bed until nine. That prompted the headache that I've fought all day, although I still managed to eat some bacon and oatmeal before going into the gym to train with Alyssa. Today's session qualified as attempted murder; with the number of lunges I did, I will be quite surprised if I can walk tomorrow.
That means I should have taken advantage of my remaining walking skills while I still had them, but I failed. I went to downtown Palo Alto and had lunch at Sprout whilst reading a neuropsychology book about writer's block (my SymSys approach to trying to figure out what's blocking me), and when I was approximately halfway through my salad, I looked up to discover that Jessica was standing beside me. She was on a work excursion to Palo Alto and happened to stop at Sprout for lunch, so she and her coworker pulled up seats at my table and we chatted for half an hour. It was v. serendipitous to run into her like that; when I'm in the city, I will sadly run into the south bay people less often, but hopefully it's compensated by similar run-ins with city people instead (even though the evil city cannot replace the glorious south bay in my heart!).
I left Sprout at 12:45, because I had told myself that I would go to the Stanford library by one p.m. to write. But, since I'd left my laptop at home when I went to the gym, I had to stop in and get it...and I decided to make some tea...and then, suddenly, it was five p.m. What I did during that lost time, I don't even remember, which is rather depressing. I did make a list of all the stuff that I need to do, which I think daunted me enough to not even get off the couch. Suffice it to say that I'll have to be way more productive tomorrow if I'm to have any hope entering the weekend in good shape.
Eventually, I did get up and make dinner -- steamed artichoke + a cheeseburger. And, I took care of some minor romance-community related things. And, I finally opened my new manuscript again, reread the scene that I'm working on, and realized that part of the problem and part of why I'm blocked is that the scene is in the wrong place. So, I moved half of it to a scene that will happen later, and then started writing fresh stuff to replace the lump that I hacked off, but I got in approximately sixty words before the emotions of the scene overwhelmed me. Seriously, Ellie's story will either kill me or make me a fucking writing goddess -- right now, all I'm seeing is so much death, but hopefully I'll make it.
Now, though, I'm throwing in the towel on all of it -- the writing, the thwarted ambition, the packing -- and going to bed. Tomorrow is a new day, and from what I know of the cycles of my productivity and mood, it will be a vastly better one. Goodnight!
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