Gray, gray, gray

[pameladean]

I really don't like this time of year. There is a kind of scum of snow over everything, but not enough to compensate for the general grayness and darkness of everything. I'm glad I don't have to shovel, but still.

I had a profoundly satisfactory date with Eric on Wednesday. I also screwed up the timing of the grocery order. Simon's actually caught it and said they would restore my intention, that the groceries be delivered on Thursday as usual, but they didn't do that, they scheduled them for Friday. I got a day off from cooking dinner, but on the whole I prefer to plan those. Lydy took David out for ice cream and also got Raphael and me a HUGE CONTAINER of Sebastian Joe's blueberry-mint sorbet. Wow. It's as spectacular as I remember -- I've only had it once before. I don't know what they are doing making it in the dead of winter, but it was lovely stuff. Also had a very nice conversation with Raphael with both nice literary values and giggles.

Possibly some of my crankiness is caused by not really having eaten properly, either yesterday or today. But now we have groceries.

Today I got up much too late, crammed medication, caffeine, and nourishment down my throat, got clean, petted my cat, who insists on being swept into my arms and made much of as soon as I get the towel around my dripping self, winkled bus far out of David and helped him admire the kittens meatloafed on his bed; and finally went out to pick up a prescription, get a new bus card, go to Target for some presents my mother had thoughtfully asked for from there, and get a Starbucks card for my brother, not from me but from David's mom, who hasn't got any Starbucks near her. I had planned also to stop in to Barnes and Noble and try to use up the rest of the extremely meager holiday present budget on neat stuff I hoped would be on sale, but I could not stand it. I got on a bus and went home.

The entire time, I felt I could sense a miasma of Norwalk-like virus, just waiting to get me and by extension everybody I see for the next week. I haven't had an illness like that since one made me miss the final Flash Girls concert in 1996, and that is far too short a time ago. And besides, it wouldn't just be icky and horrible, it would prevent my medication from staying down, and that actually could get dangerous, or at least cost more medical money that I haven't got.

I was seriously tempted to throw all my clothing into the wash and take another shower, but I haven't got any clean clothes to put on should I do that. I settled for washing my hands elaborately and quoting Lady Macbeth. Laundry is definitely on the list for tonight.

This would be a grand year to just cancel Christmas. Oh well, I expect it will be all right on the day.

Dinner, laundry, writing await me. At least it is not Christmas in Liavek. It's the month of Wine. So there.

Pamela

Comments

[daedala.livejournal.com]

One of my coworkers went home with Norwalk. Just when is that thing contagious?

The month of Wine sounds horrid to me. I'd be surrounded by oenophiles with really expensive bottles of vinegar. They'd all want me to be designated charioteer, and when I explained that I couldn't drive, they'd curse me with shin splints.

[pameladean]

*snicker* But no. They'd be still making the stuff that would turn into expensive vinegar later on. The month of Wine is the month of grape harvest and wine-making. You'd have to smell it, but they'd be working, not drinking, for the most part.

I don't know what Liavekans do about drunk driving, but they don't really have chariots, lacking a large number of beasts of burden. There is really no equivalent of the ability to drive a car, let alone the obligation to do so at the drop of a hat. My guess is that there are sobering-up spells that actually work, only they probably take some weird long-term toll. You wouldn't need them just to get home, though.

Sorry. In Minneapa, we used to call the above a SRHI -- Serious Response to Humorous Item. Blame it on the writing mindset.

Pamela

[daedala.livejournal.com]

Well, the only conveyance I could remember were camels, and I couldn't imagine them caring much.

[pameladean]

Oh, indeed, I believe that camels make it a matter of principle not to care much.

[daedala.livejournal.com]

Maybe get the camels drunk, too? That might be interesting.