This book is slowly killing me. Emphasis on 'slowly' - the writing is coming out in torturous little bursts of breath between endless, drowning silences. At least it came out at all today; I wrote four pages, expending enough mental energy that it felt like forty...but the wordcount doesn't lie. It's not that I stopped caring about the story - it's quite possible that I care too much, and that I'm putting too much pressure on the story, which always results in trouble. It's also possible that I just don't know what the hell I'm doing, but I'm trying to push through regardless. If I can just get through the next twenty thousand words or so I should get to smoother waters, but the next couple of weeks aren't going to be pleasant.
Today wasn't all struggle -- or rather, upon reflecting on that statement, the other struggles were at least more fun. I picked up Tammy and dragged her to Millbrae for our usual dim sum pilgrimage, where we waged glorious war upon dozens of shrimp families, annihilating them with no casualties on our side. The shrimp families came in successive waves of different formations: shrimp noodle, shrimp in bean curd, shrimp dumpling, and shrimp in bean curd, with help from their allies (barbecue pork bun and egg custard tart), but they were no match for our appetites. As usual Tammy and I had a delightful time talking about life, love and "Project Runway", but all good things must end. So, I dumped her off in the city, spent a glorious half hour buying some more looseleaf tea at Samovar (since I was totally out of my staple black tea and was going through withdrawal) and a few of the pens I adore from the Japanese stationery store in the downtown mall, and then came home to write.
You know about the writing already. Around six I made the unusual decision to go to the downtown Equinox to work out; I've never used the city Equinox before since the parking situation is dicey, but Alyssa and I thought it would be a good idea to try it and see whether I'm more likely to go to that gym, go to the yoga studio near my house, or do my own outdoor workouts. So, she got me a week-long guest pass to the city gym starting today, and I decided to check it out. The gym is v. weird compared to the one I'm used to in Palo Alto; because space is at even more of a premium in the financial district than it is down south, the gym is on three levels and the ceilings are a lot lower, which makes it feel a bit more cramped (although it didn't help that I got there for the evening rush). It may also be weird because they built it in the former Pacific Coast Stock Exchange and put the locker rooms in the vault -- nice idea, although it felt rather, er, vaulty. However, I was able to park on the street for free and didn't have to wait for a treadmill or a shower, so it wasn't bad. I'll try it again tomorrow during the day and see how the parking/workout situation plays out, but it may all work out just fine.
After the gym, I came home and was lured into my neighbor's apartment; he said that he had just made some jam and asked if I wanted a jar. This is weird in comparison to all my other California experiences where the neighbors never acknowledged each other, but I've talked to him quite a bit in the garage, stairwell, etc., and since he grew up in rural Minnesota several decades ago, I think he has more of the midwestern hospitality than most people I know. Anyway, he showed me his apartment, which is truly gorgeous -- and they have a library with a hidden liquor cabinet, which is pretty much my dream come true. After we said our farewells, I came upstairs, wrestled with the story some more, and eventually put it away to take care of some other tings. And now, my dears, I must go to sleep -- goodnight!
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