Funny day

Let's see. It began by going to the laundromat this morning. The only appropriate thing to take with me to read there was a book that's long been in my to-be-read pile, but I really hadn't wanted to tackle it yet. It was "Writing Down the Bones" and the reason I didn't want to tackle it is I didn't want to be put in a position where I would be pushed into writing. Or urged into it. Or drawn into it. At this point, just writing in here is just about enough.

And I was right. I was pushed, I feel pulled, I feel torn...I spent some time sitting there, not reading. Then I spent some time thinking about the novel I started more years ago than I care to think about--and here I was, thinking about it. It has a male protagonist, but there's also a woman in whose point of view I have written a couple of scenes already and there's the question of whether or not to make it her book or let the book have two points of view...Argh!

And now, when I was about to start using this blog the way Steinbeck used his notebook and writing to his editor to help him to write East of Eden--the damn thing isn't on this computer. And the floppy disk that may or may not have it on there is for some strange reason unreadable by this computer. Which means that I have to fire up the old one and find that story and copy it over onto another floppy and hope for the best. I'm just too tired right now to go through all that, it takes easily 20 min. for the poor old thing to boot up. And I'm now hoping desperately that it does and that I can actually manage to retrieve this novel, because I really don't have to type the whole thing in again, assuming I can dig up the old copies. Not that that would be an entirely bad thing to do, I'd just rather...not.

It was a lovely day out today. "Out" being the operative word; it's still in the low 80s in this apt. Once the heat gets in, it's impossible to get it out. If I'm lucky, we'll have a couple of days more of a cold spell (50s would do just fine) and I can really cool the place off--and then hermetically seal it up, so the heat/humidity stays outside and I stay comfortable in here.

Fat chance.

Anyway, I did go out and my leg didn't hurt too much at all. Then I ran into an acquaintance, a FOAF, and rode the bus for a few stops with him. I'm not really sure, but it feels like he's flirting with me. But it could just be that I'm out of practice with all that, nobody really flirts with me anymore. I'm actually hoping he wasn't, since I also know his wife and, really, I've given up married men.

I'd been home for a little while when there was a knock on the door and the person on the other side of the door said he was the police. I figured he was here to ask about my neighbor's robbery and I was right about that. On my way to the door, I threw on a shirt I keep handy by the door for when I don't have time to rush and put on a bra, so I looked worse than usual. Oh, who am I kidding? There's no way a guy that good-looking would have been interested in me even if I had been wearing a bikini. Well, esp. not a bikini, actually, I'd look truly horrible in that.

Anyway, that's a long way of saying that this guy was Cute. Capital "C", oh, yes. In an Anderson Cooper sort of way, though not that chiseled. But the coloring, the self-assuredness, the light build, the eyes--oh, my, yes. Even a cute little mustache.

My libido ain't dead yet.

Amazing that I got any work done after that at all. But I did. A little.

On tap for tomorrow: changing the kitty litter. And who knows what else?