running round leaving scars

I just realized that I need to go to bed immediately. The monthly San Francisco area romance writers meeting is tomorrow morning in Berkeley, which means I have to get up at seven a.m., which is akin to torture in my world. I also need to load up my car with some stuff that I'm going to drop off at the new apartment after the meeting (soap, towels, toilet paper, scissors, and other helpful items that it makes sense to have readily available as soon as we move in), so I can't dawdle in the morning like I normally do.

Today was decent, though; I didn't pack like I should have, but I took care of some errands and saw some friends, so it was all good. I made it to the gym in time to train with Alyssa, and we did our usual Friday workout, which consists of a lot of cardio and stretching while watching "House". I pulled something in my right bicep a couple of days ago whilst breaking down the boxes in the garage, and so we attempted to work that out with limited success. Then, I showered, dried my hair, and went to my old office to have lunch with Gyre, one of my oldest work friends. His wife is going to have their third son any day now, so I probably won't have lunch with him again for awhile, but I said I would venture to the wilds of the dirty east bay to see them once the baby arrives and they're settled in. So, we spent today catching up on life and gossip, and I got my fill of tasty free food, which was all quite lovely.

After lunch, I ran to Target and got a couple of things for the apartment, then came home and took a nap before cleaning up my kitchen. Then, I went back to the gym to meet with Bart, the dude who is encouraging me to eat more protein/fat and fewer carbs; the meeting went well, although he's a big fan of supplements and I have my doubts. Post-Bart, I dropped off my dry cleaning (an absurd amount, since winter basically continued until three days ago), came home, thought about writing, and instead procrastinated until it was time to pick up John and Jess at John's sister's house.

I somehow got suckered into taking them to the airport tonight (and by suckered I mean John vaguely asked and I less-vaguely agreed), and in exchange, they bought me supper beforehand. We went to Cafe Borrone, and all three of us had gouda sandwiches (best sandwich ever) while discussing live over/under the noise of a folksy band playing in the corner. One woman was playing a washboard strapped to her chest, which is the definition of folksy, right? Eventually, it was time to part ways, so I took them to the airport, came home, and caught up on a variety of stuff until now.

And now, I really must sleep; seven a.m. is going to come all too soon, even with my delightful teamaker to look forward to. I think I'll set the timer on it to brew the tea right as I'm waking up, which should provide at least nominal incentive to get out of bed. Goodnight!