I wonder how much of my current laziness has been bred into me by my stints at my former employer...because by 1pm today, it was gorgeous outside and I was feeling like slacking off and doing some day drinking (like any good San Franciscan does when the sun is visible through the fog), and so I called up someone who also works there because I knew they would most likely be free. Yes, we're all super spoiled.
But first, the beginning of my day. I didn't wake up early enough, and I've hit the point where I think I need to change that - if I don't get my writing done before noon, it mostly doesn't happen, and I need to start planning for that more aggressively. But I got three or so solid hours of work in, and was happy with what I did even though I discovered a massive continuity error in Thorington's book (which has, if you recall, been out for almost a year and a half) - in one critical flashback I said he was nineteen, which would make Rafe seventeen...but the only way the rest of the ages work through the rest of the book is if they were actually sixteen and fourteen, and then spent eight years living in poverty instead of five. Goddammit. So now I need to decide whether to fix the text for future versions, or whether to assume that no one will notice since it's sold thousands of copies and no one has ever contacted me about it. Decisions, decisions.
sssanyway. Eventually I threw in the towel, showered, ate some leftover pasta from last night, and then walked down to the Marina to see my waxer chick, whom I hadn't seen in longer than usual (I've been traveling, and also she no-showed on an appointment that she claimed she had texted me about, so I was debating finding someone else). But she's highly entertaining to talk to and also good at her job, so I'll probably keep going back.
Then I probably should have gone home and worked, but as I mentioned above, it was gorgeous. So I took a lyft to Chandlord's, and we drank a whole bottle of wine (which she had bottled! and it was really good!) while catching up on our lives. She was apparently worried that I was having some sort of crisis (spoiler: the crisis was that I wanted to drink in the daylight with an awesome friend), so she made time for me, and now I'm like the boy who cried wolf and will be thrilled with the power of my demands until she eventually abandons me. But the rest of her friends suck, so I like my odds in terms of being able to keep her.
sssanyway again. We drank the bottle, and then went to Benjamin Cooper, where we had cocktails with her friend Juelle (whom I had never met - she's visiting from Boston). And then Vidya and I shamelessly crashed Juelle's dinner plans at Mela, which means I got to see Hema again (a friend of Vidya's whom I've me before), and also got to meet a couple of other cool people, and also got to make surreptitious fun of the 'kids' table', since Juelle's fiance is 26 and has a bunch of v. young, happy-looking friends.
But now I'm totally stuffed, and remembering the article I read the other day about how childhood poverty impacts eating habits in adulthood, and while I wouldn't say that I was hungry as a kid, I was definitely regularly hungry while we were in Ukraine and we rationed food to make sure it was all perfectly even and that we all got our share - which could be why I had a visceral need to finish the chicken dish on the table even though they had already taken my plate away. But that's a contemplation for another day. After dinner, Hema and her husband dropped me off at home, and now I'm falling asleep on the couch and debating the merits of getting up and taking my contacts out and going to bed like a real person. Goodnight!
But first, the beginning of my day. I didn't wake up early enough, and I've hit the point where I think I need to change that - if I don't get my writing done before noon, it mostly doesn't happen, and I need to start planning for that more aggressively. But I got three or so solid hours of work in, and was happy with what I did even though I discovered a massive continuity error in Thorington's book (which has, if you recall, been out for almost a year and a half) - in one critical flashback I said he was nineteen, which would make Rafe seventeen...but the only way the rest of the ages work through the rest of the book is if they were actually sixteen and fourteen, and then spent eight years living in poverty instead of five. Goddammit. So now I need to decide whether to fix the text for future versions, or whether to assume that no one will notice since it's sold thousands of copies and no one has ever contacted me about it. Decisions, decisions.
sssanyway. Eventually I threw in the towel, showered, ate some leftover pasta from last night, and then walked down to the Marina to see my waxer chick, whom I hadn't seen in longer than usual (I've been traveling, and also she no-showed on an appointment that she claimed she had texted me about, so I was debating finding someone else). But she's highly entertaining to talk to and also good at her job, so I'll probably keep going back.
Then I probably should have gone home and worked, but as I mentioned above, it was gorgeous. So I took a lyft to Chandlord's, and we drank a whole bottle of wine (which she had bottled! and it was really good!) while catching up on our lives. She was apparently worried that I was having some sort of crisis (spoiler: the crisis was that I wanted to drink in the daylight with an awesome friend), so she made time for me, and now I'm like the boy who cried wolf and will be thrilled with the power of my demands until she eventually abandons me. But the rest of her friends suck, so I like my odds in terms of being able to keep her.
sssanyway again. We drank the bottle, and then went to Benjamin Cooper, where we had cocktails with her friend Juelle (whom I had never met - she's visiting from Boston). And then Vidya and I shamelessly crashed Juelle's dinner plans at Mela, which means I got to see Hema again (a friend of Vidya's whom I've me before), and also got to meet a couple of other cool people, and also got to make surreptitious fun of the 'kids' table', since Juelle's fiance is 26 and has a bunch of v. young, happy-looking friends.
But now I'm totally stuffed, and remembering the article I read the other day about how childhood poverty impacts eating habits in adulthood, and while I wouldn't say that I was hungry as a kid, I was definitely regularly hungry while we were in Ukraine and we rationed food to make sure it was all perfectly even and that we all got our share - which could be why I had a visceral need to finish the chicken dish on the table even though they had already taken my plate away. But that's a contemplation for another day. After dinner, Hema and her husband dropped me off at home, and now I'm falling asleep on the couch and debating the merits of getting up and taking my contacts out and going to bed like a real person. Goodnight!
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