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Apparently Nameless trained me to do all my best writing between the hours of ten pm and midnight (at that point it was the quietest part of my day). This would be awesome if, as when I was writing Nameless, I didn't have to get up at six tomorrow and go to work.

But I did my thousand words for the night, even if I suspect everything I have written to date is shit and will have to be fixed in draft. The point is to get past the shit and get into the rhythm of writing, and once you've got thirty thousand words it doesn't matter that the first two thousand are embarrassingly stupid. At least I am making very good friends with the protagonist; I like Valet quite a lot. Clever, friendly, passionate about service, a lover of good food, and just a little bit bonkers in the "if I stabbed you I'd get blood on my shoes" kind of way.

I am trying to keep up with housework too so I did my dishes and only fell off the Wii once tonight (fucking yoga) and packed my awesome sandwich-and-an-egg bento for lunch tomorrow. Sometimes I feel silly packing a bento box to work, because it does look a bit strange and people can't figure it out. But then I'll happen across one of my coworkers making a horrible microwave lunch or slinking in with a McDonald's bag or I'll think about how I never want to eat at Corner Bakery ever ever again, and I'm okay with it.

Bed now. *conks*

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Just to show me that pride goeth before a fall, work ramped up from "Sam is energetic" to "Sam is overstimulated" AGAIN. MY GOD PEOPLE.

BossBoss and I did have a totally awesome conversation about life goals, though (no, really). I have a desiderata -- a list of things one desires to do -- and I had mentioned to him that one of them was to witness a full solar eclipse. He told me about being in the Navy and being able to see both the Southern Cross and the North Star from the flight deck near the equator, and also how he's doing an Ironman Triathlon this weekend, homg what. I asked if he'd ever seen the end of an Ironman Triathlon, with the people like crawling towards the finish line, and I asked him to please not die. He promised. I hold him to his word!

Also, today, I found this giant box of tiny promotional sunblock tubes in the back of a cupboard -- I KNOW RIGHT -- which were supposed to have been shipped somewhere, but I dunno where, and the person in charge of it has been gone for like a year. So BossBoss said "Send out an email!" and today became We Love Sam, He Gives Us Free Sunblock day.

I just want to block some sun! Is that so wrong?

(hija_paloma says my life is a choose your own adventure book. Well, okay, she said it's a choose your own adventure book "written by an angry, sarcastic drunk." I'm having a hard time arguing.)