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roadnotesY'know, I had some pretty good plans for this weekend: Thursday night -- Rose's Turn; Friday -- work, then the Fountain Pen Hospital, where Soren was going to buy me a pen, then voice lessons; Saturday -- brunch with Sarah and Mark, then Cafe Tacuba. . .
However, all of these (well, maybe not Cafe Tacuba tonight, we'll see) were thwarted by what I strongly suspect was food poisoning, which hit while at Rose's early on Thursday. We took a cab and actually made it home before the horrible part started, though, which was good for my dignity.
Since I didn't sleep Thursday night, yesterday was a blur of exhausted dehydration. If I've said anything particularly stupid, please chalk it up to illness; if I've not said anything, so much the better.
This morning, I woke up after two particularly vivid dreams; in one of them, I was playing drums in a wedding band, with Dennis deYoung as one of the vocalists. My subconscious worries me.
On the positive side, the voice lessons have been rescheduled to Tuesday, and the world seems to be worth living in, now that I'm somewhat rehydrated. Perhaps I should work on the novel.
However, all of these (well, maybe not Cafe Tacuba tonight, we'll see) were thwarted by what I strongly suspect was food poisoning, which hit while at Rose's early on Thursday. We took a cab and actually made it home before the horrible part started, though, which was good for my dignity.
Since I didn't sleep Thursday night, yesterday was a blur of exhausted dehydration. If I've said anything particularly stupid, please chalk it up to illness; if I've not said anything, so much the better.
This morning, I woke up after two particularly vivid dreams; in one of them, I was playing drums in a wedding band, with Dennis deYoung as one of the vocalists. My subconscious worries me.
On the positive side, the voice lessons have been rescheduled to Tuesday, and the world seems to be worth living in, now that I'm somewhat rehydrated. Perhaps I should work on the novel.
