I need to start using lotion on my hands more frequently. I just stretched them over my head before beginning to type, and in the dim half-light of my bed, obscured by my blindness as I looked at them over my eyeglass frames, they looked like hideous, grotesque dinosaur claws wrapped in human skin and painted, macabrely, with Affair in Red Square nail polish. In other words, I saw what they may look like when I age, and it wasn't a pleasing thought. The ravages of time are coming for me, but I shall not go gently into that good night. So, lotion it is, or at least remembering not to flex my hands so that I see the tendons shadowed by my bedside lamp.
That was a bizarre opening to the blog, but I'll let it be. My usual refrain of not getting as much done as I wanted to is starting to wear thin. Today I woke up around ten, and thus was two hours later than I had intended to be for an informal writing date with my friends Grace and Tina, but they were kind enough to forgive my nightowl nature. When I got there, Tina had made sushi for lunch, and so we chatted for an hour before getting to work. The first work was't for me, but it was a fun brainstorming session with Tina about her next series, so it was a good mental exercise. Then, I worked for a bit and wrote four pages in an hour, which was pleasing, before talking to Tina and Grace again. It still counts as work, since Tina is massively successful as a self-published author (300,000 copies sold in the past 12-16 months) and there's a lot I can learn from her as a result. And, whether I could learn anything or not, they're quite entertaining, so I'm glad I went over.
I left around four, came home, spent a bit more time working on zee manuscript, and then made supper -- reheated risotto and a freshly-cooked pork chop. The risotto was slightly less thrilling than last night, probably because it was leftover, but the pork chop was possibly perfect. It had brined for an extra two hours last night before I pulled it out of the solution and wrapped it up for later cooking, and I didn't make the timing mistakes that I made yesterday, so it was piping hot and juicy when it was time to eat it. Yummy yummy. I know this confession is sacrilege, but I may have almost preferred it to a steak. You can revoke my Iowa birth certificate now (although, in my defense, Iowa raises a lot of hogs).
After supper, I went out with Jenni and Marci, my old coworkers from oh so many years ago. Jenni and I have been friends for years, and I spent a lot of time with Marci (including a summit trip to India) before she went to Boston for work. She moved back quite some time ago, but since I no longer work at our mutual employer, I don't see her much. So, we got together at a wine bar (The Pour House at Polk and Bush) and caught up for an hour or so. They did the wine flights, but I confined myself to a single glass of excellent pinot noir (truly excellent -- one of the best glasses of wine I've had in awhile). They were both in good form, and I'm glad that we actually got together before the holidays. After we parted ways, I went to the airport to pick up Terry, and then she and I caught up at home for an hour or so before her bedtime.
And now I, too, must sleep; I'm going into lockdown hermit mode tomorrow, with no plans to see anyone, and I intend to keep it that way. Goodnight!
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