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Oct. 9th, 2008 07:07 pmYom Kippur is over, thank goodness. I still have my fine fever but the inflammation is the least it's been in 2 months, also thank goodness. Conflux made it worse, but sleeping almost all the time since then has really got it under control. Life and skin are both mysteries.
My main concern of the evening is who the mysterious person was who tried to ring me a little while ago. I couldn't answer the phone because it wasn't yet dusk and I am desperately curious. Please ring back, whoever you are!! (the dusk thing only applies one day of the year, just in case anyone was wondering what weird regulations govern my daily life)
Unless anything else intervenes, my evening will be unevenly distributed between Battlestar Galactica, Heroes and my own writing. Yes, I finally am well enough to write. You would not *believe* how relieved I am at this. I've already decided my fairy needs a mid-life crisis in celebration. (Why does that last sentence read oddly?)
I broke my fast with aloo parathas, in case anyone is curious. An easy and mindless foodstuff for those living alone. If I had stayed in Melbourne I would have broken it with family, but I returned for Conflux and that's the price. Aloo parathas is not a big price. I wouldn't mind that missing phonecall being from someone who rings back very soon, demanding my presence, I admit. It feels strange to be alone tonight. This is why DVDs were invented and why good friends lend me DVDs. In five minutes I shall not be alone. I shall be in an entirely cheerful universe. Did I say 'entirely cheerful' and mean to describe BSG? Should I be really scared about the fiction I produce tonight?
My main concern of the evening is who the mysterious person was who tried to ring me a little while ago. I couldn't answer the phone because it wasn't yet dusk and I am desperately curious. Please ring back, whoever you are!! (the dusk thing only applies one day of the year, just in case anyone was wondering what weird regulations govern my daily life)
Unless anything else intervenes, my evening will be unevenly distributed between Battlestar Galactica, Heroes and my own writing. Yes, I finally am well enough to write. You would not *believe* how relieved I am at this. I've already decided my fairy needs a mid-life crisis in celebration. (Why does that last sentence read oddly?)
I broke my fast with aloo parathas, in case anyone is curious. An easy and mindless foodstuff for those living alone. If I had stayed in Melbourne I would have broken it with family, but I returned for Conflux and that's the price. Aloo parathas is not a big price. I wouldn't mind that missing phonecall being from someone who rings back very soon, demanding my presence, I admit. It feels strange to be alone tonight. This is why DVDs were invented and why good friends lend me DVDs. In five minutes I shall not be alone. I shall be in an entirely cheerful universe. Did I say 'entirely cheerful' and mean to describe BSG? Should I be really scared about the fiction I produce tonight?