Mental Trap

As I said Sunday, I've got a lot of stuff to type in from my paper journal. I'm up to May now, but that still leaves a lot to go. I have lots of notes on Thermionic Night and Sampo, and I'm sure they'll come in handy next week when I start revisions. I haven't been putting much personal stuff in my paper journal, so it's just an endless stream of book notes and story notes and title ideas and all. Lots of typing per page.

( meep meep sequels meep )

GRRRRRR.

Hell. I guess I get new contacts. I have combed the bathroom for the left one, to no avail. Slippery little bastard. It was probably time for new lenses, but this is not the way one prefers to go about it. Luckily (intelligently), I do have glasses, so it's not a total vision emergency. But I'm annoyed.

I'm going to give my hair another good comb-through, because that's the only thing I can think of besides the overflow drain in the sink (I had the sink plugged because -- duh! -- I was taking out my contacts and didn't want to lose one down the drain).

Otherwise an entirely satisfactory day. Pay no attention to the harrumphing woman in the glasses.