the season is calling, your pictures are falling down

Today got off to an unpleasant start and continued mostly downhill from there, with a couple of pockets of sunshine. The unpleasant start, as you may have guessed, was getting woken up at 3:30am by the Napa earthquake; it was pretty strong here, and I got out of bed for it since it was shaking hard enough to make me slightly concerned about my closet doors, but there was no damage to anything in the house other than my sleep.

But I ended up awake for forty-five minutes after that, and so my sleep was fitful until sevenish. Then I wrote in bed and got three pages by nineish, which wasn't outstanding but was certainly better than nothing. I just wish that I'd stayed on the productivity train rather than making plans to go out. But the first plan couldn't be helped; I needed breakfast, and I wanted to catch up with Terry, so we went down the street and caught up over omelettes (and mimosas that the owner sent us, even though I was trying to detox). Breakfast took longer than intended, and then I came home, took a leisurely shower, tidied up my room, did my hair and makeup, etc., and called my parents early since I was supposed to go out for lunch...

...but lunch ended up not being until three p.m., which got on my nerves, since I was watching productivity slip through my fingers and I don't really have time to deal with annoyances when Thorington's due in a week. It was a nice enough interlude, but when the coworker I was going to lunch with picked up me and Terry, we discovered we had to then go pick up another friend in the Castro (note: not near the Marina), then going all the way out to fucking Ocean Beach to eat (note: near neither the Castro nor the Marina). I shouldn't call it 'fucking Ocean Beach', since it was actually as lovely as it can ever be there - warm, not too windy, no fog at all, and perfectly abundant sunshine. And we had champagne, which always makes me happy. And it was nice to sit outside and enjoy being an actual person instead of a writing automaton, I suppose. But that meant Terry and I didn't get dropped off back in the Marina until almost 6:45, at which point I was too annoyed to get back into Thorington's story.

C'est la vie, I guess. It could be worse - I could have gotten hit in the head with my closet doors this morning, or not gotten three pages before breakfast. But this week I'm going to have to buckle down and finish the damn book - so on that note, I'm going to bed now so I can write for three hours before starting my meetings from home. Goodnight!