Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

Yup, make it three mornings in a row waking up from a very complicated dream whose details evaporated extremely quickly. In this one I was an actress working on a movie.

I also woke up feeling hung-over, which is terribly unjust considering that the last alcohol I drank was more than two weeks ago (and that a mere one bottle of porter). I blame the trees.

I've gotten way behind on communication again: reading LJ, answering LJ comments, email, snailmail, phone calls ... I'm so far behind I'm even behind on non-verbal communication: I've got at least a four day backlog of gesticulating wildly, and I must be about three weeks behind on hugs.

(So, ah, if I do somehow manage to come up with enough spoons to read back on my friends-page, as I've thought I might "any tomorrow now" for the past week and a half, by now I'm almost certainly far enough behind that I will still have missed some stuff more than "skip=300" away.)

I'm trying to a) figure out how the rest of my week lines up, b) get some phone calls made and some bills paid, c) convince myself I have the energy and attention span to develop some film[1] and buy some paper, d) go to the Post Orifice, and e) reserve enough spoons to make it to rehearsal tonight. At the moment, based on how I feel waiting for ibuprofen to get from stomach to blood, I'm thinking I should count it as a minor victory if I manage one of those and a major win if I do two. I guess a draw would be just not getting my car towed (it's street-cleaning day). If I accomplish three or more items on that list, it'll be cause for a celebration which will in turn have to be postponed because I won't have any energy left with which to celebrate.

For the moment, I'll watch the Live Special Report where the newscasters are trying to figure out whether to call the smoke white, black, or grey[2], wait for that ibuprofen to kick in, and try to find out whether Google Maps (painful over dialup, nifty over broadband) will show me a satellite photo of Pennsic.

[1] I've been waiting for the weather to be the right temperature. Last night the thermometer in the bathroom was at the 'B&W' mark, so this afternoon the bottles of chemicals should have come up to that temperature.

[2] In between the time I hit the return key to post this entry and the time LiveJournal responded, the bells started ringing. Gee, and I'd turned on the telly just expecting the usual noon news broadcast.