not a kitchen story

I'm not ready to go back to work tomorrow, mostly because I still feel like crap. But on a brighter note, today was both v. pleasant and v. productive, so it was a win-win despite my sinus situation. The day started earlier than I usually like to start on a Sunday, but I managed to drag myself out of bed, through the shower, and into a dress/tights/heels in time for a 9:30am family breakfast. Yes, I was way overdressed for family breakfast, but I intended to write after, and I know I write better if I'm dressed up and professional instead of comfy/slovenly.

I made it to the appointed rendezvous location exactly on time, miraculously found a parking spot half a block away, and was just getting out of my car...when I got a call from John saying that the plan had changed. Typical. So Adit, Priyanka, John, and Jess rolled up in Adit's car and picked me up from the appointed restaurant, and then we drove to a totally different restaurant that hadn't even been on the (admittedly brief) list of suggestions. That restaurant is substantially more popular, so there was a line, but there was no wait if we sat outside, which we did. We managed to cram five people around a table meant for four people, with a somewhat serious downhill slope, and this all made it more cosy/comforting/ridiculous. I also adored our waitress, who seemed to adore us back, which is a testament to how endearing my friends can be in their insanity.

So many jhokes were told and much food was eaten, and then we parted ways so that they could all go to the dirty east bay on a variety of errands. I came home to write (with a brief stop at the salon to get yesterday's manicure fixed, since it started chipping two weeks earlier than it should have - they were super gracious and quick about it), and I procrastinated for an hour before realizing I was getting nothing done. So I walked down to Fort Mason and wrote about six pages, which was much-needed and actually felt like they were good sentences rather than utter dreck. Then I came home, talked to my parents, did a bit of tidying up of my room, and had a relatively early dinner down the street (steak was v. necessary for my recovery, I think), where I wrote another four pages. Thus feeling v. smug with my ten-page day, I came home, procrastinated some more, and then did an hour or so of work for the day job.

And now, it's still early, but I have the lungs of an octogenarian, so I might as well have the bedtime of one. Goodnight!