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Woke at dark o'clock this morning, limped not too painfully down to bathroom- oddly, because yesterday I was crippled- and came back for a few more hours sleep. But sleep wouldn't come, a function of having to actually be awake by a certain hour. That hour was ten a.m. and I should have drifted off for another 4.5 hours. But sleep disorder was having none of it. So I was up at 6:30 for a change, reading one-eyed on my tablet.
Bathroom waking at least let me remember what I was dreaming, which is that
daegaer and I had met at a fannish convention of some sort, but the talk was all about her last academic paper concerning the three non-Jewish ancestresses of Jesus Christ. Ruth the Moabite was one, and I'm pretty sure the second was historically inaccurate Noami, and the third was someone I'd never heard of whose polysyllabic name began with La.
Acupuncture again, and again the restaurant sirens sang to me, so I went and sat at an unheated table (they have heated booths but not enough) on Pauper's patio. Was determined to cast cholesterol prudence to the wind and have pasta! with cream sauce!! but saw that their beef stew in Irish stout is back on the menu so gratefully had that instead. Mashed potatoes are far more glycemic friendly than penne pasta, and beef is (yum) beef. Almost made me feel like myself again.
Bathroom waking at least let me remember what I was dreaming, which is that
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Acupuncture again, and again the restaurant sirens sang to me, so I went and sat at an unheated table (they have heated booths but not enough) on Pauper's patio. Was determined to cast cholesterol prudence to the wind and have pasta! with cream sauce!! but saw that their beef stew in Irish stout is back on the menu so gratefully had that instead. Mashed potatoes are far more glycemic friendly than penne pasta, and beef is (yum) beef. Almost made me feel like myself again.
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fannish conventionacademic conference for the first time in ages, as a regular one I like is online this year. The lat time I was at it a Very Respectable Academic of a Certain Age spent much of his presentation cheerfully squeaking "I am a beautiful pot!" while everyone tried not to absolutely die. I was very chuffed to be seen as a wild young whippersnapper who giggled in public. (The gentleman in question was DELIGHTED that giggles ensued and had wondered why there weren't more. He has, alas, moved on to giving presentations to the Choir Eternal).no subject
"I am a beautiful pot!"
This sounds like one of your Linguistic Triumphs. Was that what he meant to say?
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