The Visible Woman...July 30, 2003

Some days one feels like one has slipped into a rut and can't get out and get running. And yet things do get done. Sort of.

I was just spinning in the ditch today. I kept finding interesting e-mail things to get into. Or I'd go to the building to fix the security system and find a compressor not working. Or I'd get in the middle of a 'to do' list and then start sorting through mail or looking something up on the WEB.

My head spun when our ex-renter sent a note from a town in Texas we'd never heard of and then two minutes later I got an e-mail from a old school friend saying another school friend lived in the same town.

But moments of synchroncity aren't really progress. The floor is still piled with papers, the office a mess.

I did dry out the cooler where the ice was for the party and I did write the 'to do' list. I even got FFP to do one of the things. I did get our electronic calendar up-to-date.

I did get my workout done. And then, before I knew it, it was time to go play tennis.

I gobbled food on the way through the kitchen here and there.

I just didn't seem to get up a head of steam.

Wednesday, July 30, 2003

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

a house that no longer exists that was my great-grandfather DeArmond's, I believe	limbo Some days one feels like one has slipped into a rut and can't get out and get running. And yet things do get done. Sort of. I was just spinning in the ditch today. I kept finding interesting e-mail things to get into. Or I'd go to the building to fix the security system and find a compressor not working. Or I'd get in the middle of a 'to do' list and then start sorting through mail or looking something up on the WEB. My head spun when our ex-renter sent a note from a town in Texas we'd never heard of and then two minutes later I got an e-mail from a old school friend saying another school friend lived in the same town. But moments of synchroncity aren't really progress. The floor is still piled with papers, the office a mess. I did dry out the cooler where the ice was for the party and I did write the 'to do' list. I even got FFP to do one of the things. I did get our electronic calendar up-to-date. I did get my workout done. And then, before I knew it, it was time to go play tennis. I gobbled food on the way through the kitchen here and there. I just didn't seem to get up a head of steam.
JUST TYPING you play out scenarios that never happen to try them on to comfort yourself that what has happened is all right
		Food Diary. A tiny coffee drink from Japan in a can. Calories? Well...it probably says...in Japanese. A banana. Some cheese (two ounces?), a hefty piece of bread, a piece of turkey salami (40 calories). Some Japanese snacks my friend brought back. One pack was dried salmon or something, the other some soy bean shaped crisps. Actual ingredients or calories unknown but to those you read the language. Some spinach, some carrots, some green onions, some mozzarella cheese and salad dressing. About six ounces of ginger lime apple juice. Some cheddar cheese. I didn't eat enough early enough and then, after getting home from tennis after nine, I gobbled everything in sight.
		Time flies.... Today I thought I'd get up and go to the club with FFP. But I turned over and he was back and in the shower. Hmm. Well, he slept in his chair last night while I watched Queer Eye for a Straight Guy or whatever it's called.

		Reading. Sort of arbitrarily started The Fearless Diner by Richard Sterling. I just noticed it by my easy chair last night and thought, why not? No, it really had nothing to do with me eating the crazy food my friend brought home from Japan. He says in the book, though, that the school of eating of which Japan is a part emphasizes snacking.
		I'm thinking of setting aside an hour every day to work on writing projects. But I know I'll get interrupted. By my own head if nothing else.
		Exercise Fifteen minutes biking to nowhere. Upper body (chest, back, shoulders) weight work. Abs. Fifteen minutes bike.
		Physically I felt strong at the club. Emotionally a bit down.