AUSTIN, Texas, Jan. 27, 2005 — It was a sleepy, rainy day. I heard it raining about seven. Probably no tennis at nine. I got up and goofed around the house and around nine-thirty (the time for tennis) I went to the club. It was raining on me the whole time driving over, though, and I knew it would come off. I even used the umbrella walking into the gym. I did over fifty minutes on the bike (reading the Grass novel...I'm after WWII now...you know where you stand when a novel lasts a century although the characters are, usually, looking back from another place in the century). I did a few exercises with the weights and some ab and lower back work. I know that I'm in a rut with my workout but I can't seem to find my way out. I just keep showing up. That's

the best I seem to be able to do.

When I gave it up, I headed to the grocery store. Went to what I call the Randall's Convenience Store, a tiny Randall's on Exposition. Got some green onions, a grapefruit, a zucchini, a little brocolli and, before I could escape the store with that healthy lot, I picked up some of those sugary Valentine hearts I can't seem to resist. Ah, well.

At home, I figured I would get a shower, watch a little TV and maybe make the deviled eggs I promised Dad for his event at church tomorrow. Oh, and maybe I'd go pay the property taxes on his house, too. Now, how does one get behind when all one has to do is make deviled eggs and drive a few miles and wait in the drive through with a check. And finish reading the paper? Well, I can do it. I fiddle around watching tennis and watching that documentary about the Al Jazeera news network (Control Room) that a lot of people are talking about. (For my money, it's much better than Faherheit 9/11). I finally get out in the rain and to over to Airport Blvd. and wait in the slowest line in the drive-through at the Tax office (not on purpose) to get my check in for Dad's taxes. I read my book while waiting. Back home I have to watch some more tennis and doze and I don't get anything done. I don't even finish reading the paper.

Before I know it, it is time to go out to a party before the Zach Scott performance of Blown Sideways Through Life. It is a gay outreach party and as we are invited we attend and find that the food and drink is free. Cool. I have two beers with the result that I doze during the performance. It's a one-woman show and she is good but, to me, it just doesn't hold my interest. Other people seem to love it. Maybe I missed something when I nodded off.

At home, I boil a bunch of eggs and snack and make deviled eggs until it is after midnight. Then I watch a little TV and, foolishly, try to work the Thursday puzzle in The New York Times. I can't finish it, of course. We fall asleep watching what I think is a CSI rerun.

It really is a sad commentary that I can accomplish so little on a day when my only obligations were to play tennis (which was rained out) and party and watch a play.