train this chaos, turn it into light

I was fabulously productive today, and it was all personal stuff -- work can wait until tomorrow. I feel the oncoming of a plague; when I woke up this morning with a sore throat, I hoped that it was merely the result of the dry airplane air...but in case it was an early symptom of something worse, I decided to get as much done as possible today so that I could hole up and nurse my ailment if necessary. It wasn't all work, though; I started off by going to Samovar (the one in the Castro, not my usual Yerba Buena one), where I had quiche and a masala chai while reading 'Roberts' Guide for Butlers and Other Household Staff', written by Robert Roberts (sadly unimaginative name)in 1827. It was almost too hot this morning; in direct sunlight outside the cafe, I had to take of my sweater, and in my sleeveless dress and leggings I was still overheating. I endured, however, hoping that copious sunshine would burn out my incipient virus.

I stopped by the grocery store on the way home and stocked up on the necessities, and then spent some time tidying up the apartment and swiffering where needed. I did a load of clothing, washed my sheets, flipped my mattress, remade my bed, and talked to my parents for half an hour (our Sunday phone call ritual must be maintained, even though I just saw them yesterday). Then, I started typing my notes from 'The Cambridge Companion to British Theatre 1730-1830', which pretty much consumed the rest of the night. I did take a break to make polenta; it was a recipe from the Italian vegetarian cookbook my parents gave me for my birthday, consisting of polenta and two types of cheese. It turned out pretty well, but as it happened I wasn't particularly hungry when it was ready, and so I have far too much left over.

I've discovered all sorts of fun facts about British theatre, and I'm loving my return to research; I just need to guard against the temptation to research for months, since I really need to start writing again. But now, I'm going to go to bed and hope that 8+ hours of sleep will stave off the plague. You had best hope that's the case too, since you know all too well that I get whiny when I'm sick, and whiny, octogenarian-style recounting of symptoms isn't fun for anyone. Goodnight!