Anna S. (eliade) wrote,
Anna S.
eliade

This snowflake tastes like fish sticks.

Time flies when you're on the run from the law.

Yeah, kidding. My week has been less eventful. Writing, working out, being mellow, honing my sense of financial entitlement and wrongful birth. Meaning, I find it very very easy to adjust to a life of structured leisure. Among other things, I find that I really like to work out pretty much every day. I'm a bit nervous about the impact of returning to work on things like this.

My social momentum continues. This past weekend the lovely katallison visited Seattle and I got to hang with her; this coming weekend, I'm going to Vancouver to visit koimistress and spike21. I had rough plans to visit Kat and Koi this summer on their own respective turfs, then sadly reconsidered the timing, drive time, terrorist temperature, etc. In nice coincidence, they came to me instead. Those of you who can, imagine me doing that little jig of Monk's.

While in Vancouver, I will be visiting a particular cupcake shop where the cupcakes of the gods are created. I plan this without guilt, for I am downsizing; today, I dug out jeans that I haven't worn in five years, because I'm shrinking out of the bigger ones. I do that jig again.

In weirdness, I've suddenly been beset with sleep myoclonus--for the past several days, muscles keep jerking as I'm falling asleep. Often. It would be something new to neurotically fret about, except that the sleep-specific version probably doesn't indicate, say, a tiny stroke or the onset of Parkinson's. It's bugging though. WHY AM I SO WEIRD? Just a question.

I offer kisses to you peeps.
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