Ironic that this entire day has sort of had an unexpected ease to it. Especially for a Tuesday, which for me, always has a tinge of Monday’s racing.
I ought to be a Discordian. I was born on the 23rd minute of the 23rd hour of the 23rd day of the year of my birth. I sow chaos in my wake. I’m Trouble with a capital T. But not today, at any rate, where my frantic consideration yesterday came together sort of neatly and serendipitously and while I’m now pondering if the heat was making my brake squeak or if it was the music (surely not!) or if my run of luck has now run out, other things were sort of canny and remarkable and almost destined never to be repeated.
The project went fine to the accountants. No significant issues. No flailing and trying to figure out how I did what I did for the past month. Such a relief. Also, there’s talk again of getting me a cabin boy. Intern. This is the kind of post they’ll dig up when I die/win the Nobel Prize. This will be my Weiner pic. Still. Young blood in the office who have to listen to what I tell them? I’m okay with that.
I overnighted a package and met the lady at the copy shop who was delightful and kind and knew my boss and gave me a ridiculously good discount after we had to repack the box twice after leaving the address on it twice and I’m hoping and praying that overnighting will not come to naught and I’m hoping and praying that I can work out all the work issues around that package like…tout de suite. But as much as I’m sweating right now, it’s not over any of that. It’s just hot. I really wish I could sleep outside, but that’s really only a good idea for the weekend. Don’t need to wake up the neighbors with the Monty Python wake-up call I have set on my phone.
Dinner tonight was also wonderful. I had chicken and asparagus and havarti cheese and sauteed garlic and tomato and basil mayo and it was sort of an orgasm on a plate. All self-invented (as opposed to the other sorts of invention) and eating it made me feel very kitchen witchy, very nourished and well and on course.
Last night I exercised again with The Black Widow. I should give her another nickname since the second time though, she seemed a lot less crazed to me, but sorry, Jillian…it’s stuck. I did it imperfectly and way too late, after I posted, and in this offensively hot weather, too. So, I need to do something tonight, but I think it may just be the bike or walking with Warren, the Konami git. Something will be done and that is going to make the difference for me.
All of this convinces me that my place in the universe is perhaps slightly less fragile than I like to imagine.
Goal: 155 by June 15