Plans are set for my November writers conference. Oh crap! It’s in November! That’s NaNoWriMo! Fridge. Now I’m going to have to work at double the pace early in the month so I don’t have to stress about it during my trip.
I’ve really been focusing on getting enough sleep on work days. I often fail miserably, but I’m succeeding more than I used to, and it’s made a huge difference. Yes, it means sometimes rolling in an hour or two after I usually intend to be there, but my boss has been very understanding, and I always stay late if I roll in late.
I feel like I’ve been a child about putting myself to bed responsibly. I’m annoyed with myself. I know a lot of this isn’t my fault: I’ve had sleep issues my entire life, and the issues I have now are searious and a threat to my health, but I’m not doing enough to resolve the issues. There are things beyond my control, and there are things within my control. I need to take care of the things within my control.
A coworker this afternoon introduced me to the strangely satisfying concept of soap cutting. There are people on Instagram who just make short videos of them cutting into bars of soap with a knife. Mesmerizing, and I’m saying this in a completely non-facetious way. I don’t understand it but I think I’m hooked. I mention this now because I suspect these things might make it easier for me to relax into sleephood at night. That’s my intention anyway.
I’ve seen three films this year so far that I’ve rated in the 90s. Eighth Grade. The Bookshop. Puzzle. I call that a good year.
Friday 5 from here.
- What is the story behind one of your scars?
I have a scar on my right wrist. I sliced it open with my own ice skate one day in tenth or eleventh grade, when I was still dating Lisa. We were playing tag on the ice, and I had this killer move where I would let someone get really close to me in pursuit, and then I’d duck down, stopping almost completely while the pursuant skated right past me. In this game, I put my right hand down on the ice to help me with braking, and my skate slid backward and right over the wrist. Ouch. To this day the feeling in my skin right around there is not what it was. I think I severed things that never reattached.
- What’s an example of your being pretty much like everyone else?
I really hate getting-to-know-you games. If we all hate them so much, why do organizers of certain things still plan them? I was chatting with a coworker who went to a conference late this past summer and she said they made them do a spaghetti-noodle-marshmallow game. Nobody likes these!
- What’s an example of your being pretty much unlike everyone else?
I prefer cold macaroni and cheese to hot macaroni and cheese. With ketchup.
- Of websites you look at daily (or almost daily), which have you been paying attention to longest?
This has to be Hawaii Threads, a local forum run by a good friend. It’s pretty dead nowadays, but I still check it once or twice a day.
- What’s something you wish a smartphone was capable of?
Underwater photography. I think of this every time I’m in the water at the beach. I can think of few things prettier in my near-daily life than the ocean as the sun peeks over the Waikiki condos. I’m thinking of finding a waterproof Funsaver just to try and capture some semblance of the prettiness. We also haven’t really reached the digital-audio-file-to-text transcription technology everyone really wants.