AUSTIN, Texas, Jan. 4, 2005 — Wake up dreaming. It seems like I go into this period when I wake up remembering my dreams.

This morning it was one of those dreams where large groups of people were being entertained. There were lots of people, food, serving dishes. There was the usual confusion. A person was saying that she got to decide what we served because she was going to die before next year. She looked healthy enough.

The day seemed weird when I got up. Because I had decided to get a haircut. How, you ask, does that make a day weird?

Well, if I'm going to get a haircut then I need to get up and shower and wash my hair. I usually go to the gym or to play tennis or something before showering. I wish this weren't so in a way because getting cleaned up does change your perspective on the day.

As I sat waiting in the parking lot at the barber shop, waiting for Jane the barber to show up, I wondered if she was going to be open today. More and more, as I recede into retirement hermit status, getting anything done that requires any kind of social interaction, even getting a haircut seems like an achievement. Silly.

Jane shows up. Oddly, no one else is there until she gets the shop open. I get my haircut. It was my only real goal for the day. Except for going to the gym (always a goal) and paying attention to my New Year's Resolutions.

I check up on my friend who cancelled dinner last night and find out she is OK. I report same to my dad and my other friend.

I finished Machine Beauty by David Gelernter last night. He's pimping some of his ideas but, all in all, he makes some good points about what's wrong with software. And some reasonable predictions given a six- or seven-year-old book. Today I started Joan Didion's Where I Was From. It is the kind of memoir with history (of both family and place) that I enjoy.

The hours. Yeah, devoting some time to a 'to do' list item or a writing project, just putting in the sixty minutes, that was the key to a couple of my resolutions. And, like so many things, it sort of worked.

I made a list of possible writing projects. (It seemed sort of short.) I started a document on one of them. Then I wrote a short story. It wasn't very good, probably. It was ripped from my life but with stuff puffed up for effect. And it was cathartic. It gave me a feeling of acccomplishment, of being creative.

I didn't get an hour in doing any other project, though, like cleaning a closet or taking care of the finances. I feel like I'm on the cusp of starting to do better, though. Really.

The interruptions.

I knew when the maid came I'd feel interrupted so I chose that time to go to the gym. I felt good at the gym. I have stopped trying to do one complete routine of three sets (or super sets) each of five or eight things. Instead, I try to do a few sets or supersets of things I feel I haven't done in a few days. It's less organized than the old way was supposed to be but it seems to work better. I have gained weight over the holidays, sadly. I guess I'll have to pay some attention to my diet.

FFP got on the New York planning bandwagon today and every time I turned around he was sending me restaurant ideas or down here talking about stuff to do. He got me to do a proofreading job, too. And he sent me one of those e-mails hinting that I ought to get off my duff and organize our financial life and such a bit.

FFP made dinner kind of early and then I felt like just sitting in front of the DVR and spinning off stuff I'd taped and reading papers. What else is new?