Why is this day like all other days?
I did a significant amount of work, which leaves a feeling of satisfaction until I realize there's still a significant amount to do. As with many things (like laundry, which is piling up), the anticipation of the task is much worse than doing the actual task.
I'm like a vampire that comes out only at night. I never want to be in the sun, especially now when my skin is sensitive. As it got close to 6, I felt I could venture out. I took the northern route, found a mailbox to send out work, went to the ATM, wandered into Garden of Eden but didn't buy anything, picked up light bulbs, carried home 2 heavy bags from Gristede's, and ate. There was an amazing chocolate chip muffin which had both crunchy chips and moist, gooey chocolate, and chocolate isn't even my favorite flavor. I got Babybel cheese but found I prefer the texture of Babybel light - sometimes the more fattening thing isn't the best.
While I was walking around it was hot and humid, but later it was nice enough to bring out the chair. I sat outside until almost midnight, listening to podcasts and Pentangle's "Sweet Child" album, and reading with the portable light. I will miss this when the weather gets cold. Back inside, I danced along to the radio. "Signed, Sealed, Delivered" came on (HUGE fave) and I picked up Dolly Lamb-o and boogied him around. I don't know if that's pathetic or just exuberant.
Magazine report: POV, August 1998. I think this was a replacement for something that went out of business, since why would I want a magazine for men? In less than six degree territory, there was a column by co-star Ken Burns, a piece on Minnie Driver (friend of former officemate A), and a sex column co-authored by the baroness I went to college with. Nine years later, I've heard of 2 out of 7 showbiz up-and-comers highlighted: Taye Diggs and Barry Pepper. (Update: the other 5 are listed in the comments.)