Seems sleep is out of the question tonight, at least for a little while. Oddly, I've done more interesting and entertaining things in the last thirty minutes than before going to bed. Gladly, I think most of this is indigestion rather than grief or over-thinking regarding some recent life events. This is what I get for one: not going to the gym; and two: not making stirfry bok choy from the CSA veggies I got today. At least I cycled to food that is revolutionizing my digestive tract. I hope when all is done by bowels have moved from a distoptian dynasty of gross consumerism to a verdant stronghold of Roddenberryian ideals.
Yes, I did call my intestines a distopian dynasty; it is a prolix implication that I have bad gas and tummy grumblings. This is harsh given the number of lactose intolerant people I know. They mat prefer less scintillating verbage, maybe a series of &^%$-phrases and deity-maledictions. Ginger purrs her assent behind me. She contains tender digestive meats too but far more self control than I.
Regarding any turmoil I may have mentioned, I'm suprisingly at ease with it at the moment. I bathed today and nothing grants perspective like a warm bath. I realized I am wanting things that aren't possible and assuming that what I want other people want - irrespective of evidence either way. I must relax and let it come as it will; I won't help by pressing it. In the immortal words of Jules I say to myself, "Bitch, be cool!" Gods grant that I espouse this in the morning.
Now! The weekend! lady_fox attacks Portland until Wednesday and aetrix9 eats Chicago, I'm footloose and fancy free. What's up? Who wants to do something Saturday or Sunday? I fail to recall a Family Guy quote that applies here.. but oh damn, was it funny.
Let's assume I remembered it.