As it turns out, the man named Duke who showed up to fix my thermostat this morning (at ten a.m., requiring me to get up around 8:30 so that I could straighten up, dust, swiffer, etc.) looked more like Santa Claus than any duke of my dreams. How rude! But, I must say that he was efficient; fifteen minutes later, I had a new digital thermostat that keeps the temperature within one degree of the set temp, rather than the 5-10 degree oscillations the previous thermostat was giving me. So, I'm quite happy about that -- and now, hopefully, it will warm up outside and I won't need the heat now that it works (although I'm guessing that's not going to happen anytime soon).
After Duke left and I took care of a few tings online, I went to the gym, where I did some treadmill while reading my latest copy of "Romantic Times" (a monthly magazine that reviews nearly all of the romances coming out that month). I felt just slightly ridiculous reading it at the gym, but it's important to keep up on the industry, so I'm glad I read it even if I looked seriously strange to anyone glancing over my shoulder. After cleaning up, I had a salad at the gym's cafe, came home, did some laundry, and read part of a book called THE WAR OF ART. I came across it because it was the assigned reading for a class that I thought about taking and ended up not doing (the one on setting good habits). It's essentially trying to convince you to stop procrastinating and write the damn book -- a noble goal, and one which I aspire to, but clearly reading a book about procrastination is just a meta form of procrastination and something that I should be ashamed of.
Nevertheless, I read some of it, then met up with Heather (aka dear respected madam) for pedicures and dinner. She suggested getting pedicures at this place on California Ave. that I hadn't been to before, which was totally fine by me since it meant that I could continue my trend of never venturing more than five miles from my house (the farthest I've gone since getting back from LA is Cafe Borrone, which is four miles away). The pedicure place ended up being really great, so I'm glad to know there's a good one in my general vicinity, even if I need fewer pedicures now that I'm mostly wearing house slippers inside and Uggs outside. Amusingly enough, I ran into Connie there as well; she had gotten out of work at the hospital early today and was trying the place for the first time, just like I was. I've barely seen her and Chris since they moved back, mostly because Chris works all the time and I'm a hermit, so hopefully I'll see them again sometime soon.
Heather and I adjourned from the spa and walked down the street to Bodeguita del Medio, a Cuban restaurant that I hadn't been to in years, and now I'm kicking myself for not going more often. Granted, walking there in flipflops to protect the pedicures at all costs, despite the fifty degree weather, was a little chilly, but the restaurant more than made up for it. We split a shrimp appetizer, and then she had a really awesome pulled steak dish with great black bean soup and delicious fried plantains. My meal was perhaps the teensiest bit less successful (my salmon wasn't nearly as good as her steak), but mine came with mashed potatoes and this sauteed zucchini that I could have eaten a whole plate of, so it still felt like a win. It was good to see dear respected madam before the holiday rush kicks in, particularly since I'm going home for three weeks and she's going back to Indiana for two.
It was also nice to get out of the house and see a bona fide friend, although I hadn't realized that I hadn't seen anyone in a week -- I really could be a hermit if I put my mind to it. Between going to the gym and going to class, I've left the house for extended periods of time every day since getting back from LA, but tonight was the first time in a week that I'd socialized with anyone I actually know. I'm socializing tomorrow too, though -- I've got a training session with Alyssa, and then I'm having a late lunch/movie combo with my friend Joy, so getting out of the house will happen again.
Unfortunately I didn't write today; I did vividly imagine (we will call it "plot" for the sake of pretending that it's art) the upcoming sexytime scene with Madeleine and Ferguson, which possibly doesn't count as work and probably is more detail than you would appreciate. So I have some notes for that, and I should write it tomorrow even if it kind of skeeves me out to think of people I know reading it in the future. And then, it's the weekend, with hopefully more writing in store. I know I've made the right choice to focus on writing for awhile if only because a) I look forward to writing on weekends and b) when Heather asked me if I miss work, I said that I don't at all. It's really true, which has kind of surprised me since I gave so much of myself to the company over the past seven years -- but I haven't had a single moment of loss/regret/nostalgia. So now it's just a matter of making it as a writer so that I don't have to go back, right? And to do that, I should sleep so that I can write tomorrow -- goodnight!
1 comment:
My dish so won. Thanks again for the lovely evening.
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