19 April 2002 - 9:45 p.m.
Listening: Marina, "Rocket to Your Heart"
Reading: a letter from Sama on vacation plans and school desegregation.
Cooked: broccoli, mushroom, asparagus and onion stir-fry with caramelized tofu.
Wrote: two get-well cards, one sympathy card, one "hang in there, girlfriend" card.
Dreading: Hella report-wrangling ahead.
Wondering: What the hell is wrong with the Red Wings (Canucks lead the series 2-0. Oy!)
Anticipating: lots of crawfish tomorrow night.
Aching: all over, in a good way. (Circuit class earlier tonight. I thought my arms were going to fall off.)
Wore: a splashy violet-print sundress I bought at the store next door to Badsnake's barber. One of the joys of shopping while on vacation is being reminded of said holiday when donning the clothes purchased therein. Especially when one looks damn good in the dress. And it's even better when one's husband murmurs "by the way, nice dress."
Giggled at: the clanging of the unbreakable watch against the railings.
Puzzling over: the third (not-yet-formed) line of the poem I'm writing.
Revelled in: the kisses the BYM dropped upon my back this morning.
One year ago, I added these lines to the library: "This book is as fluffy as a good Southern biscuit. There's a beekeeping manual shelved right next to it."
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