they justify my claims

I'm such an idiot; even though I got up at the ungodly hour of seven a.m. and didn't take any naps today, I'm still up after 1am, and I need to go to work in eight hours. Boo me.

The reason I got up at the ungodly hour of seven a.m. was because I had a massage and a facial planned in the city of sin. Unbeknownest to me when I scheduled the appointment (because I live under a rock when it comes to local and state news), it was Pride weekend in San Francisco, and Market Street was closed for a four-hour parade. Since Market Street is what runs in front of the mall where my spa is, I could have been screwed (not literally, of course, since I am straight, but you get what I mean). Luckily I put two and two together last night and decided to leave insanely early for my ten a.m. appointment in case I had trouble finding parking. Amusingly (or not), there was absolutely no traffic and I found easy parking in the garage behind the mall -- a little annoying that I got up so early, but I would rather have that than miss my appointments.

The massage and facial were both great, and I left feeling v. relaxed; I had the same masseuse and aesthetician that I had last time, and I'll have to book both of them again, since they were great. Then, in the ultimate act of suburbanism, rather than going to the parade, I walked to within half a block of the parade and detoured into the Container Store, where I bought some lovely boxes to store my various paper and ink supplies in. Yes, I am ridiculous. Then, I retrieved my car and drove over to the Mission to meet up with Vidya, who was finishing up lunch with some other people; I was starving at this point, so while she suggested walking to a wine/food place a mile away, I mutinied about three blocks into the walk and dragged us to Mission Beach Cafe instead. It was super hot inside, the conversations around us were ridiculous, and the food wasn't as good when I was paying for it instead of expensing it back to my company -- but it was good to see Vidya, and I was so thrilled to be eating something that it would have been pretty hard to disappoint me.

After leaving the city of sin, I came home (with a stop to buy popsicles since it's warm as hell), talked to my family for two hours, and then spent the rest of the evening trying to get my life in some semblance of order. This involved digging through the vast quantities of mail that have accumulated over the course of my travels and paying bills that were dangerously close to being late (including a Comcast bill that was four days overdue, much to my horror and chagrin, particularly since I was so furious at Adit for failing to pay our bill back in the day -- although in my defense, I paid it before they shut me off, and all is well). I also chatted with a Comcast rep about getting the free HBO that I was promised, which meant that I was able to watch True Blood tonight -- which may mean that I'm hooked on True Blood, and the only thing that will save me is that I won't want to watch two seasons' worth to catch up. Then, I did some slogging for the day job, and now I really, really, really should go to sleep.

So that's it for the weekend; while I've been telling everyone that I'm more settled in and sane, it was a lie. I'm going home next weekend, I have a wedding and a birthday party to attend the weekend after that, another birthday party the weekend after that, and then I have one weekend free (so far) before I go to the romance conference in Orlando. At this rate I'm never going to unpack, or finish my book, or do any of the other myriad things I need to do -- ugh. Clearly I'm going to have to force myself to stop wasting time reading nytimes.com so that I can get some shit done -- all the things I need to do aren't going to take care of themselves. Goodnight!