It's been an appallingly quiet week- just busy doing stupid things at work that require lots of coordination, concentration, and leave me exhausted. So I come home and fall asleep on the couch, watching Stephen Colbert. And then Kman comes in from doing things in the man cave downstairs (there have been car and motorcycle projects in the offing all week) and tells me to go to bed. It is silly. And it is my life lately.

Not much in my head other than getting through it all, putting the boss on a plane, and having time to catch up on things that got shoved into other corners of my head in the last couple of weeks. I did, however, read an amazing short story by a friend. It gave me the resolution and one hell of a good angle for my book. That part had been floundering a bit. So this was what it needed. And I am happy. Just need the energy and discipline to sit and write it.

I have also been going to the gym. Which is probably part of the falling asleep on the couch story. Am up to 20 minutes on the stair machine, followed by 10 on the treadmill. I hate it. Like I hate poison. The band. Just because. But it is helping firm up parts that are best firmed.

Today is a check up for Timmy the cat. We think that we have dialed in the insulin pretty well. He seems perkier than he has been for a very long time, and I keep finding him on our bed- which for a while he couldn't reach. So either he has an assistant putting them there, or he is actually able to jump. I opt to believe the latter.

Nothing else. Just winding down the day and getting giddy about having days off.