Okay, I didn't go running (we decided to do it in the a.m., making this my free day, making my back very happy), but man, I got a lot done, which is completely unusual. I usually just sit around and read things of little consequence on my day off.

We had a good dinner. Catherine said something very nice to me, making me quite happy. I was a good girl and cleaned my office when we got home instead of reading the Carol Anshaw novel I recovered from the pile of books in the back seat of the car. I can actually see my desk, and can actually roll my chair over to the drum kit without hurting myself. Good on me. I also got the property tax-exemption forms filled out and ready to go for when Steve gets back. It wasn't as hard as I was making it out to be (of course).

I didn't even freak out when I had to write a $1500 check at the travel agent's. Even though it didn't even include the Washington D.C. tickets. Apparently I'm on my best behavior.

Bought a very excellent book on the way home from dinner, a biography of E=MCsuperscript2. Catherine thinks I'm insane, but I'm completely psyched. I read the first several chapters at the store and really want to finish it now.

How to avoid people you don't like at the bookstore: If they're women, study the books in the sports section. Women don't like to be forced into conversations about rugby. If they're men, study the books in the physics section. Men aren't going to come talk to you and risk finding out that you're smarter than they are. Unless they're Ron, who will stop and talk to you no matter what, unfortunately.

I've more than shattered the self-imposed moratorium on book-buying. I've got to knock this crap off, where am I going to put all these books? I've already gotten rid of most of my academic books, just one or two shelves left, really. My smart friends would be very disappointed in my shelves these days. A few Orientalism books, some British history books, a few Red Scare books. Now where the heck am I going to put all these Civil War books? And my hockey/sailing/climbing/miscellaneous sports shelves are overflowing.

Life according to the bullet point:

--I forgot to read Pat's book this afternoon.
--My hand is freaking killing me.
--Travel agents are a complete rip off.
--I can put a load of laundry in to wash, but it will never make it to the dryer.