No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2001-08-12 - 3:30 p.m.

don't you wish you were me?

well, i did end up going out last night. and i was right, i was glad that i went. poor old HeroMan couldn't convince me but CD was able to. it was fun, and it was just what i needed.

i slept like a log last night, and then well into this morning. apparently jo3 came by on a roller-blading excursion. eRoommate told me. i missed it completely. out like a light.

i meant (yet again) to get more work done on BigSis's site today. so far i've spent most of the day reading. i went out and hung by the pool, reading my latest Stephen King (Bag of Bones) and got to that part of the story where i just don't want to put it down.

eRoommate just took off for the week, and i have the place to myself again. it's easier to be lazy when there's no one around to give you disapproving looks while you're slacking.

so let the week-long slackfest begin. or more appropriately, let the months-long slackfest continue.

on my list for what's left of the day is grocery store (or i'll be having white rice and margarine for dinner), work out, and work on BigSis's site.

don't you wish you were me?

don't answer that.

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