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CJ called me 'a very helpful reader' for sending her the Powell's
information. I guess good deeds do pay off. Ought I be
embarassed at the warm fuzzy this gives me? Probably not.
(Although it's weird to write about 'CJ' and not be referring to
myself.)
Today has been mostly long, after an extremely tiring-but-good
weekend. Mostly good, at least. I spent unfortunately large portions
of both Thursday night (yes, I know Thursday isn't the weekend, but I
haven't written since Thursday afternoon so it counts) and Saturday
afternoon in high-stress mode. Earl handled this patiently, which is
good since he was causing some of the stress.
So, without further ado, my weekend:
Thursday:
Thursday I worked and worked and worked. Then I attempted to drive to
class, only to be foiled by the traffic on 101. I'm developing quite
the love/hate relationship with my commute. I went home instead, since
I didn't even get up to Mountain View before my class started, and did
some laundry while waiting for Earl to show up. He did so right about
20, conveniently enough, and was surprised but pleased to find me at
home. We went to dinner, then to Merlin's for Babylon5. Then home,
where I spent several hours explaining how tired and stressed I am, and
he spent several hours trying to figure out ways to make me less tired
and stressed. It was productive.
Friday:
Friday I got a few things done at work -- mostly things like
discovering that my users don't want to call me. If they don't call
me, I can't help them. It wasn't a bad realisation, as it left me with
time in which to discover that compiling nn is way too complicated for
me.
Earl was home from work before me, which is (in my unfortunately
limited experience) usual. He manages to leave work on time, and I
never do. As soon as I got home we went to dinner in Palo Alto, then
wandered in the general direction of Borders. I got sidetracked by
Renaissance Books, which is a tiny used bookstore that I'd never
actually seen open before. To my delight they had about fifteen of the
twenty-four books in the 'Twilight' series, which was a set of
unconnected teen-horror books published in the very early 80's. For
some reason I decided that I wanted to recreate my youth by reading
them again, but finding them has been nigh unto impossible. I waved
the stack triumphantly at Earl, who laughed a lot.
After Renaissance Books we went to Borders, where I considered buying
several thousand different things, but settled on a book of essays by
Bernard Knox. I didn't look at the book too closely, as I buy
everything I can find that Knox has done, but it looks like a book of
theatre reviews for classical plays. Extra-keen. We took our stacks
of books back to the car and headed for Watercourse Way.
Watercourse Way is by far my favourite place to go relax. It is, as
the name might indicate, a place one goes to in order to sit in a hot
tub and hide from the world. There are ten rooms, each with an amusing
name and various combinations of spa/tub/sauna/etc. Earl had reserved
Three Trillium, which is a nice black-tile tub with lots of jets. We
spent a wonderful hour soaking and floating and talking. Earl pointed
out that I can and should go by myself sometime, since I rarely need
de-stressing when I'm with him. He is not entirely wrong.
Saturday was breakfast at Late for the Train, then I went and bought
yarn. _Lots_ of yarn. Fifty-one ounces of yarn, in fact. Rachel has
started me crocheting, and all this yarn will someday be an attractive
(yet functional) blue-and-white afghan. Or so they tell me.
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