thinking bout us, what we gonna be, open my eyes, it was only just a dream

I actually made it up to Berkeley in time to socialize before the monthly writers' meeting, which was some feat on my part. The teamaker did help; I had to get out of bed so that I could grab my tea before it started to get cold (after being perfectly brewed just for me), which meant I couldn't hit snooze five times and then be late. I had one slightly odd, retrospectively insulting interaction in which someone asked me if I had "done anything" to final in that romance contest so many times, such as "network" or "having my agent do something". I don't know what magic bullet answer the woman was expecting, but I politely told her no. I wasn't even offended at first; it was only later that I realized that there was sort of an implied insult there about whether I deserved it, which I don't think she meant since she's a sweet woman, but still. Besides, I entered anonymously even though you can include your name on the entry precisely because I didn't want to risk someone recognizing my name and downgrading me over sour grapes or a sense that such a prestigious award should be spread around. Hmph.

Anyway, despite that, I had a good time, and I'm looking forward to the national conference (which is only two weeks away!). After the program ended, I drove into the evil city and dropped some stuff off at the new apartment, which was looking lovely in the midday sun. Then, I came home, grabbed a v. late lunch, procrastinated a bit, took a nap, and finally started packing. I only packed nine boxes, but that's because I started with books (always a mistake) and ended up rereading some old journals from college. That turned out to be a rather depressing/introspective interlude, mostly because I was usually depressed and introspective when I wrote in my journal (which, sadly, was the bulk of several different quarters at Stanford, although the references were oblique enough that now I can't remember most of what I was referring to). Still, it was interesting to go back and see what was bothering me then, even if it's not the most pressing thing on my to-do list.

Also, in preparation for living with Terry, I watched seven episodes of "Bones" while packing. I have to watch a million seasons of it to catch up with it before it is on live again in the fall, since I know Terry will force me to watch it (and I will, admittedly, be an all too willing participant). Watching tv probably wasn't the most effective way to get packing done, but it was certainly better than listening to sad music and brooding over my journals, so I'll consider it a win.

And now, I'm going to go to bed, and set my teamaker to make me some delicious restorative caffeine bright and early (or, in other words, at ten a.m.). Goodnight!