I felt quite productive today, even if I didn't write a damn thing. My mind is whirling with the possibilities before me, and I spent a lot of today getting small stuff squared away -- little things like taking care of minor email tasks, cleaning off my desk, washing my sheets, making a new agenda for Q4, etc. I forgot to eat breakfast and half of an unsatisfying salad for lunch, which is as good a sign as any that I'm back into my dark days of workaholism. If only I could run off and fight in the Spanish Civil War and trade my addiction to work for an addiction to bourbon, I'd have a much more interesting life (even if my life would be a clear ripoff of Hemingway). Funny how the relapse suddenly seized me as soon as I started thinking about my writing as a startup, rather than sitting around waiting for someone to like me (isn't that dramatic?).
I had to slough off around 2:30 to rush downtown, where I was almost late for my spa appointments (tragic, I know). I had a facial to clean up my skin, followed by a massage that I had high hopes for. The facial was quite good, and is the reason I keep going back; the massage was one of the worst I've ever had, and if anything my neck feels worse than it did when I went in. I think the masseuse must have been new -- the massage itself wasn't great, but she failed to ask basic questions about whether her pressure was okay or whether the bed was warm/cool enough, and she almost forgot to move the bolster under my knees. I know, this is the very definition of a #firstworldproblem, to use a Twitter expression. My neck has really been bothering me the past six weeks or so, and I resorted to lying on a heating pad for an hour tonight, but I may have to see a doctor or something if it doesn't get better. Yes, my health woes continue in ways that are minor enough to be laughable but chronic enough to be annoying. Sorry that I'm turning into your grandmother.
After the massage, I sat in the whirlpool for awhile in an effort to do what the masseuse could not, but to no avail. So, I left the spa, came home, dragged Terry out of the house and around the corner, and got takeout burgers from Roam. To be honest, I didn't have to drag Terry very hard; Roam is quickly becoming our go-to spot for a quick dinner, particularly since it's got the protein I'm supposed to be eating in an utterly delicious form. We brought our burgers home and watch some fine television programming. First up was the season premiere of "The Good Wife", which was good but not explosively so; I didn't really get the bit with the daughter's tutor, but hopefully the next few episodes will 'splain. Also, I'm a little ashamed of myself that I'm so ridiculously attracted to Chris Noth (Mr. Big to those of you who watched "Sex and the City" or failed to properly commit ritual seppuku after witnessing the atrocity that was "Sex and the City 2") - he generally plays somewhat sleazy characters and is, as I just discovered to my horror, older than my father. And yet for me he steals every scene he's in. Sigh. Moving on from that moment of oversharing, Terry and I finished "The Good Wife" and watched the second episode of "The New Girl". I was disappointed that they replaced last week's hilarious black dude with a new, different black dude; apparently they filmed the pilot awhile ago with an actor attached to a series that later got picked up for a longer run (per Terry's insane knowledge of tv trivia), and so they replaced that actor for the regular season of "The New Girl." Way to not even try to pretend that they wanted a black guy for diversity, since they basically swapped him out -- or maybe I'm just bitter because I liked last week's guy way better.
I stopped watching television at that point so that I could lie on my heating pad and read a book about social marketing; I then abandoned the heating pad, sat up, and started listing all the things I need to do/investigate to come up with a comprehensive marketing plan that will lead to success/fame/glory/profit (or at least one sale to someone who doesn't know me - I'll take that as a start). And I took care of some v. necessary email, and all the sudden it's one a.m. Blergh. I suppose that means I should go to bed - goodnight!
No comments:
Post a Comment