mbumby (mbumby) wrote,

More accomplishments, but still tired

Forgot to mention that on Monday night I also finished typing in my notes from the trip and the con. I'll have to edit them, and then post them here... probably on several different days to keep any folks who might want to read them from getting too bored.

Last night I got home early for a Tuesday, but still had to ski (I force myself to work out on the Nordic Track every night that I'm home). This was made sweeter by the spouse reading to me. Once I was done, I returned the favor. While I was reading, we finished "Gorilla Gumshoe" and started on the 4th of the Blood books.

Before starting to ski, I noted that the spouse had done some cleaning around the futon in the library. (The other spare beds are really not accessible now, and the F-I-L is going to be visiting over the weekend.) I moved the boxes that were still in the way from it being opened up, skied, and then opened up the foot-locker that I thought had the sheets for that futon in it. Found a few blankets which will come in handy, but no sheets. Went upstairs to the linen closet. Didn't see them. Dug into the storage near the other futon. Nope. Dug into the storage near the library futon. Nope. Went back to the linen closet and this time I found them. Cool.

Then I finished up the comic catalog (order form) for today, washed my hair, and crashed by 2:39. Earlier than I'd feared.

I don't even know if the spouse's alarm rang between 6am and 7am. I am sure my alarm rang between 7am and 8am because I woke up a few minutes before 8:54 when it rings for the last time if snoozed at all previous rings, not having heard any of them. I have no clue if I hit the snooze in my sleep or if the spouse did.

With as poor a memory as I have, my closet is organized with clean shirts going in one end, and the next shirt I wear coming out the other end. That saves me from wearing the same shirt to work 3 days in a week... most of the time anyhow. I don't *have* to take the next shirt, but I should take it from the one end. Also, many of my clothes were gifts from friends -- often used -- when their size or taste in clothing has changed.

This morning I wasn't even thinking. I grabbed a shirt, grabbed a pair of pants that I hope didn't clash too much and poured myself out the door. Part of the way to work I noticed for the first time what I was wearing. The shirt had been a gift from a friend who I learned a week ago had just died.

I think I'll have a gin and tonic tonight.

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