you've got to change your slothful ways

I spent the day procrastinating. I started off with good intentions -- I would get up, go to my facial appointment, and then write for the rest of the day. I accomplished one of those two things, and given that only one of them would result in a charge on my credit card if I didn't do it, you can guess which one I did.

The facial was awesome. I was a little surprised when I walked in to discover that the aesthetician was a man; I've never gotten a facial from a guy before, although I have had other memorable facial experiences that I knew would not be topped by a guy in lawsuit-happy America. But despite my initial qualms, it turned out to be the best facial I've ever had -- he excelled at facial and head massage, and I left with clean skin and a sense of incredible well-being. Hopefully I can start going semi-regularly, since I enjoy facials even when I have to walk through the urban wasteland of the Tenderloin to receive them.

On the way back from the spa, I stumbled across this store called You Say Tomato -- it's a British grocery store. I went in and didn't spend any time looking over the merchandise, since it could be dangerous for me -- but I found what I was looking for immediately, in the form of my favorite brand of tea from Ireland. My last stash ran out before I went home for my leave of absence, but it's great that I now have a steady supply. From there I went to Whole Foods, where I spent a lot of money on yuppie-ish foodstuffs that I then had to drag back to my apartment.

The yuppie-ish foodstuffs went straight into my first attempt at using the panini press that my parents gave me for my birthday, and the sandwich was a smashing success. It contained whole wheat bread, fancy deli-sliced pepper-rubbed turkey, pepperjack cheese, tomatoes, roasted red peppers, dijon mustard, and guacamole, and it was simply fantastic. The typical problem with homemade sandwiches is that your fridge can't compete with the well-stocked, constantly-rotating ingredients in a professional sandwich shop. I decided to just commit to either eating sandwiches nonstop for the next two weeks or throwing out the rotting remnants if I can't get through everything, and the decision has already paid off.

After that, I really should have written...but I perhaps exaggerated the progress that I had made yesterday in reorganizing my apartment. While my closet was much improved by yesterday's activities, I had three boxes of books that I needed to find a home for, and my filing system and the general area around my desk was in shambles. So I spent the afternoon and evening resolving those issues -- the books were a dangerous time-sink, but I only wasted an hour rereading part of a book that I hadn't read in a long time, which is better than the *days* that it used to take me to sort and put away books. I also filed or recycled all of the semi-important documents that have come in over the past couple of months, crossed a bunch of paperwork off my list, and have made my desk usable. Yay.

Now, though, my apartment leaves little additional room for procrastination -- other than some towels and sheets that need washed and a couple of things that I need to haul down to my car, I'm pretty much settled in. Of course, I could always go to Sephora or Crate and Barrel, and at some point I want to hang my bulletin board and some art/photos, but I really need to write tomorrow and Sunday. And I suppose that if I should write tomorrow, I should really go to bed now so that I can get started with the arduous process of finishing this draft.

But one more thing first. I meant to wish a happy birthday to Carol yesterday -- she's my mother's friend whom I saw a lot of while I was growing up, and she also happens to share a birthday with me. I should have said happy birthday yesterday, but I blame the two green tea mojitos for my lapse in etiquette. Goodnight!