3 January 2004

I'm trying to get myself firmly stuck back down in time. The holidays have left me temporally disoriented: I know what the date is, but I have to keep thinking about what day of the week it is and what that's supposed to mean to other people. Mark has been on vacation -- although his cold has made that less than the most bouncy fun time he's ever had -- so even my usual ways of telling what day it is have come adrift. And C.J. is often my time-orienter (Is he gone at his own game or coaching? If the former, it's Wednesday; if the latter, Monday or Thursday), and he hasn't started coming around again yet. Maybe after his grandpa's funeral; certainly after Tony and Jenny and the baby go home. I wish there was more I could do for him and his family right now, but mostly we're waiting around here and checking in to see if he needs anything in particular.

Last night's airport run went as smoothly as an airport run can go, despite the fact that Scott and Michelle were the absolute last people from their flight to emerge. It had gotten to the point where I was considering what to do next: have them paged, then go home and call their cells and then Michelle's parents' house...the flight crew had already come out through security, and the last time I was waiting for someone and the flight crew came out, I didn't see him until the next day. This time, we drove down to Hastings, got Perkins, talked, and dropped them off at Missy's house. (Other people live there, too, but Missy would be the furred family member. She was so excited to see Michelle and then all the others of us, too, she just didn't know what to do. Except get petted; that much was pretty clear to her as a course of action.) And I got...a giant moose! Michelle found a moose that was very nearly her own size, and now it is mine mine mine, my own, my precious. Er. Precious moose. That doesn't work so well, does it? But I am childishly pleased with my enormoose.

Mark and I ran errands together for awhile yesterday -- we don't do that so much, because I'd rather go when normal people are at work, but he is (in this respect and this respect only) normal people. We got a few Christmas exchanges done and have a few more to do. We also picked up some necessities. It all went well: they took everything in exchange, so far, so I have a new sweater that fits and Monstrous Regiment, and Mark has League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Vol. II. We still have to go up to Best Buy and over to Home Despot, but that should be fine. Despite things going well, though, I got home exhausted and cranky with the world. So I made further attempts to reduce Melvin the Laundry Monster and sat and read Diana Wynne Jones' The Merlin Conspiracy and watched some first season Futurama with Mark. I'm really liking The Merlin Conspiracy -- can't wait to read more of it today -- and I think that helped me recharge a bit.

So! I came upstairs and was messing around with story ideas for an upcoming anthology, and when I got frustrated with that, I took a break and wrote a thousand words on the Not The Moose Book. Which really does seem to indicate that my brain is working right again. Book book book.

I still peed in my socks, but it'll be okay. I have pictures to crop and get posted -- I'll start putting them here when I get to it. Which may not be for awhile. Because there are lots of pictures and I'm tired and Melvin is large and...yeah. Stuff. And I'd like some portion of the house to be some approximation of clean or at least tidy when Stella and Mike and Roo get here tonight. And hey, I just had a brilliant dinner-related idea! Yay! It's at least semi-brilliant. Workable at the very minimum.

I hope your day is brilliant, semi-brilliant, or at least workable.