Yesterday was a truly hideous day. Depressed, lonely, miserable, confused, functioning only by threads, on the edge of tears all day. Not that anyone could tell, of course. I'm very good about not letting people tell. I spent four hours on an escalation, fixed the Unfixable Problem of SCSI chains, then finally crawled off to class.

I stopped at Jamba Juice to get a soymilk/strawberry/banana/honey/ice drink, since I told Earl I would. About two minutes after I started drinking it I suddenly became functional again. It was a startlingly abrupt transformation, really. And nice. Oh, it was nice.

The lesson here is 'When Cera is non-functional without reason, ask her how long it has been since she last ate.'. The answer will often be something like 'Oh, a day or two ago.' In this case it was about 22 hours between my last food and the soymilk drink.

It's interesting. There's an almost conscious element to all of it. I realise I'm hungry, and then I just don't eat. The more upset I am, the less likely I am to eat. If I can break through the wiring and remember that I'll be happier when I've fed -- well, then I'm fine. But until then I sit there, working like mad, hungry and miserable and completely unable to connect the two.

Speaking of which, I'm hungry now. And in a fine mood, so I'm going to go grab some food.

I've eaten. How nice.

Los Angeles this weekend was lovely, as it always is. The drive was a bit tense due to not being able to find my ATM card -- which meant I had no way to buy gas, since I was out of cash. Fortunately my tank of gas lasted until I got to Earl's. He bought me gas for the drive back, sweetly.

Seeing Earl was wonderful. Seeing Earl is uniformly wonderful; I in fact explained to him that it was impossible to describe seeing him because there's just no way to get it across. People always ask what we do. Well, we did a lot of little things, but we did them together -- and we talked a lot. We always do; we talk and talk and talk about anything (and everything) that comes to mind. Mathematics, music, science, religion, stained glass, books, theatre, clothes, food, our friends, our pasts, what we want to do with our lives ... you'd think that after a year we might have covered some of this ground too thoroughly, but we're not even close.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, books, mathematics, and theatre tend to be at the top of our conversational food-chain. This is the price, I suppose, of dating a mathematician who reads constantly. Horrors. How can I survive?

My move to LA continues to be planned. The current schedule has us apartment-finding sometime in December. Further updates as news becomes available