The Visible Woman...July 6, 2003

Today I really didn't have anything I had to do. And yet I was in overload.

First, the Wimbledon Men's Final beckoned. I watched while dashing around on the breaks to make a breakfast or coffee or to try to download new software for Windows or media players to my laptop. When the final was over, I thought I should work out but some guys called about seeing the building.

So we went up there and showed them around and talked to them and fretted over the thing.

Then FFP went to the club but I was all involved with updating Windows so that Adobe Acrobat reader would download and with communicating with the wireless AP so that I could set up settings.

So I finally went to the club but not before talking to my dad and kind of impulsively inviting him to dinner. At the club, I told FFP to invite his parents, too.

After the club, I had to shower up and start fooling with actually fixing something for the parents. Naturally, we cooked things in the wrong order but we got it done and they seemed to enjoy it. A change for them to eat what we do. FFP's mom brought a fruit salad, too.

Then there was cleaning up the kitchen and somehow the evening drifted away in reading papers and watching some television in a rather idle way.

I felt out of it and overloaded. A TV movie about Dan White of San Francisco set my teeth on edge but I couldn't help myself and kept watching. (Although not to the end.)

I'm not sure where that's coming from, the overload. Maybe it's the building and not knowing or thinking about the upcoming trip or the benefit that's coming up. A lot of it is just that, in retirment, it isn't enough to go to work and do a few other things.I have to plan my activities and make a few more decisions for myself. Or else I have to fret and flit and worry about too many choices. Today, at least, I just did stuff and didn't worry too much about the stuff I wasn't doing. That should be what I always do.

Sunday, July 6, 2003

A Journal from Austin, Texas. A Project of LBFFP Stealth Publishing.
food	reading	writing	time	exercise	health and mood

what are we made of? "For books continue each other, in spite of our habit of judging them separately." Virgina Woolf, A Room of One's Own	overload Sometimes, subtly, there is just too much going on. Too many choices. Today I really didn't have anything I had to do. And yet I was in overload. First, the Wimbledon Men's Final beckoned. I watched while dashing around on the breaks to make a breakfast or coffee or to try to download new software for Windows or media players to my laptop. When the final was over, I thought I should work out but some guys called about seeing the building. So we went up there and showed them around and talked to them and fretted over the thing. Then FFP went to the club but I was all involved with updating Windows so that Adobe Acrobat reader would download and with communicating with the wireless AP so that I could set up settings. So I finally went to the club but not before talking to my dad and kind of impulsively inviting him to dinner. At the club, I told FFP to invite his parents, too. After the club, I had to shower up and start fooling with actually fixing something for the parents. Naturally, we cooked things in the wrong order but we got it done and they seemed to enjoy it. A change for them to eat what we do. FFP's mom brought a fruit salad, too. Then there was cleaning up the kitchen and somehow the evening drifted away in reading papers and watching some television in a rather idle way. I felt out of it and overloaded. A TV movie about Dan White of San Francisco set my teeth on edge but I couldn't help myself and kept watching. (Although not to the end.) I'm not sure where that's coming from, the overload. Maybe it's the building and not knowing or thinking about the upcoming trip or the benefit that's coming up. A lot of it is just that, in retirment, it isn't enough to go to work and do a few other things.I have to plan my activities and make a few more decisions for myself. Or else I have to fret and flit and worry about too many choices. Today, at least, I just did stuff and didn't worry too much about the stuff I wasn't doing. That should be what I always do.
JUST TYPING Calm down. Things rush at you. But since you don't work. You have all day! And tomorrow, too.
		Food Diary. Big bowl of strawberries. Three pieces of turkey bacon, two slices of homemade bread, toasted with butter and strawberry jam. Couple ounces of goat cheddar. Squash with parmesan cheese and Sister Sass Sesame Garlic dressing, some chicken breast in marinade, ear of corn on the cob, slice of homemade bread, toasted, bowl of fruit salad. And, well, Merlot. A lot of Merlot. And some cheese, hot sauce, onions and chips.
		Time flies.... Cooking for the parents. Exercise. Worrying about the building. Downloading stuff on the computer and experimenting with wireless access.

		Reading. Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own. For a short book, she runs down a lot of the world's history or at least the history of literature.
		Did I? No? Why not? Well, I was pushing weights around, or trying to pimp the building or fooling with computers rather than using them or boiling corn and steaming squash or washing dishes or folding clothes or watching TV or reading.
		Exercise Bike to nowhere, a little more than fifteen minutes. Lower body, arms and some abs. Bike for a little over twenty minutes.
	.	I'm in a strange mood but physically I'm fine.