13 August 2001
Notes never work, though.
Last night, I planned to do a lot of things. Read a book. Learn some more Thai. Watch the videos I checked out from the library.
I did none of these.
But it isn't like I slacked off, either -- I wrote in the paper journal for two hours. 25 pages, which is good. Most of it was a total core dump, which can be bad but which usually ends up being good. However, I think it stimulated me so much that I ultimately couldn’t sleep.
10:30: go to bed.
11:30: still awake. Tried all the tried and true remedies for sleeplessness: staring up at the ceiling, changing positions, deep breathing, clearing the mind, self-abuse, etc. Nothing works.
12:30: go to sleep, miraculously.
1:00: wake up again, stimulated by an incredible thirst. Go to living room, drink two glasses of water, plud eat some grapes and dry toast. Get interested in this old movie that I swear I've seen before, but cannot remember the title: a man changes his identity by undergoing extensive plastic surgery and gets a new life as a (bad) artist out in California, gets involved with a local hottie, and at that point I went back to bed. 
2:00: read in bed, which is not what you're supposed to do, but I can't read in bed for more than 10 minutes without zonking out, usually. This is not the time to set a new record, obviously, but I do: I read for about 30 minutes and then try staring and tossing and turning again.
4:00: go to sleep somehow.
7:00: wake up much later than originally planned. On most days, I would just go back to bed. But today, I actually needed to get up early, since my boss tricked me into picking something up for him at 8. 
Coffee. Sniff crucial anatomical bits -- shower yesterday afternoon has left me still acceptable for leaving the house. Cereal. Car. Go.
I lasted, two, three hours tops at work. Now I am back and ready to nap.
I have more peaches right now than I know what to do with. The family of one of my co-workers owns 240 acres of peaches, and does not know what to do with all of them. So he gave each of us 10 pounds of peaches. Then my aunt brought some of hers over. She forgot to thin her peaches earlier in the season, so she has many of them. None of them are very big -- but they are all very juicy and good.
I'm sure there'll be more coming. Right now, people (including me) are amenable to receiving large amounts of peaches. In a few weeks, though, those that wish to rid themselves of the fuzzy things will have to resort to leaving them on people's doorsteps and then running away. There's that many.
Now I have to figure out what to do with the ones I have. Peach Festival is this weekend, maybe I'll pick up some ideas there. Besides the peach burritos and peach chili that they had last year.
 If anyone has any ideas what that movie is called, I would appreciate the hint. I have no idea who's in it or when it was made, unfortunately. But it's been bothering me all morning. Email address up top.
 Phone rings Saturday afternoon.
"It's me, The Employer. Listen, I forgot to pick up the copies I was going to pick up today (like this would be acceptable behavior for me or any of the other office chattel). Can you pick them up on Monday."
(other things talked about)
"Okay, talk to you later. Oh, by the way, you have to pick those up at 8, since I need them for my trip that I leave for at 8:15."
"But they (the copy center) aren't open at 8. They don't open until 9."
"Oh, that's okay. Just bang on the door until they let you in." (Time and other people's schedules have no meaning to The Employer, not when there's important copies that he wants)
Notice he hung up before I could really respond. So I did it, like a sucker. But I called ahead so I wouldn't have to bang on the door and embarrass both myself and them, and be tagged forever as The Annoying Person.