Another Monday has come and gone. I'm sitting here recovering from my workout by doing some 12 oz. curls. It's been a week since I changed my workout and I weigh seven pounds less than I did the last time I weighed myself. Unfortunately, the last time I weighed myself was August so who knows how much I actually dropped last week. I have discovered one thing in the past week: 20 year old Dan bounced back a hell of a lot faster than 32 year old Dan.
I read an interview with Donald Westlake today where he said he never used an outline and largely winged it, telling himself a little more of the story every day. I'm going to try that with The Gravedigger's Promise once I get some quiet time in which to write and run out of ways to procrastinate.
My boss finally has the only existing copy of A Summer At Thornhill Manor in her possession so that she may read it. She saw the NaNoWriMo 2008 and 2009 certificates on my cube wall the other day and asked why she never got to read them. Now's her chance. I did warn her not to read it near water, since that's how my first copy of Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell met its demise at her hand.
I don't think anything else is going on. I have yet to talk to any of my neighbors about yesterday's mystery explosion but it seems much less important with over 24 hours elapsed. Carrie's feeling better so I'll be heading over there tomorrow evening with the third of a cake I saved on Saturday. I did some planning for our vacation today and will start booking rooms any day now. I'm thinking about bringing my laptop so I can transfer pictures as I go and not worry about filling my memory card.
Looks like I'll be sandwiching it up this evening. I want to save my leftovers for tomorrow's lunch. I'm trying to cut the cafeteria at work out of my life completely except for a place to read for an hour every day.
Better walk the hound, I guess.