Entrained

Gainesville

Oh dear, I can already see this is going to be a lost weekend, no matter how I struggle against it. I am halfway through The Golden Compass, teetering on the slippery slope of non-stop no-sleep entrainment until it's done.

Guess I'm in pretty good shape for it-- got the bathrooms and towels done yesterday, bills written and meals planned tonight. Clothes are laid out for tomorrow. Sink doesn't need shining, as no cooking took place today. If I can just get out to shop tomorrow and cook tomorrow night, and somehow find half an hour for Blessings on Sunday, I should be okay. The Battlestar Galactica DVD's will just have to wait until this first book is finished, though. Tonight I noticed the ad for a book about the trilogy by John Gribbin -- if he's into this, I know it's very definitely right up my alley-- thanks, Sandy!

Three days after release and counting, and I still don't have the new Springsteen disk. Will pick it up tomorrow. Just so much input right now! Yesterday my copy of Walt & Skeezix came in the mail. It's so wonderful too, but I only spent about 15 minutes with it. I know I'll wolf it down in a couple of hours if I don't exercise some restraint.

Incredibly nice day here, but I didn't realize it until it was too late-- trapped inside that cubicle prison. Don't know why I can't get myself out of there anymore until it's time to leave-- probably because I know once I'm outside I won't be able to make myself go back in... I know I've said this before, but I have an extreme case of Senior-itis. Five months from Monday

The scanner in Special Collections has been busy the last few times I've gone down there. Finally managed to get 2.5 hours on it this pm, and now have all the 1948 Fireball Twigg episodes scanned. Only to realize that was too much to fit on my CD-RW, and to learn the hard way that you can't selectively delete off those suckers. Managed to find an old one of mine that I could erase so the new images would all fit. (Fireball Twigg?? Suzy, what ARE you thinking??)

Good luck with the white flies, Mom. And thanks for more baby book transcriptions. I never knew the date of Jack's death, but now I'll never forget it. I was kind of surprised that he lived that old-- 68. Older than I am, though not by much. I'm glad Cordie made the effort to save those obits, so they still exist.

Enough of this. There is a booooook calling my name...