One stop, not two

I just tried to run two errands during lunch and couldn't complete the first (picking up my cholesterol-curer) so couldn't do the second (dropping it off at the pharmacy). I'm out of this drug, have been for a couple of days, which makes me feel bad for letting this happen. Of all the drugs I take I consider this to be one of the more important: it keeps me physically healthy, so it's important to be conscientious about taking it. I suppose it won't hurt if I don't take it for 5 days or so, and I've been really, really good about taking it. The prescription wasn't ready yet. They have signs plastered all over the doctor's office to WAIT 48 HOURS before even THINKING about picking up prescriptions you've phoned in for. NO, WAIT, WE REALLY MEAN IT. I think they wait until the 47th hour just to prove their point. Anyway, I screwed up so there you go.

I've been typing my chubby little fingers to the bone. Lots of CD's. Cardio disco/funk music to exercise to ("beats per minute for each track included!"). A bunch of unknowns singing modern Christian music. Of course, they may be the most famous modern Christian music singers and I'd never know, would I. The whole international series of Modern Classical Music, The Most Beautiful Music in the World, 8 volumes (yeah, right). Is this worse than children's books? hmmm, that's a tough one to answer. Now it's on to the 1877 report to the NYState Legislature from the Land Survey Committee. And the 1997 edition of Frommer's Maine coast. When will these libraries learn that travel books are USELESS when they get old? And when will they even begin to comprehend that, if there's a record for Writer's Digest in the data base with no dates in it, that means it can be used for ANY EDITION they own? Huh, when? Huh? Oh, but I love 'em all. Tomorrow I go to Rouses Point to weed some more of her non-fiction. Can't wait, can't wait. I'm so charming to these people that if I were them I'd be suspicious of myself.

I don't believe in resolutions for the new year, but I have some suggestions for myself. I want to find peace in my life, and I want to see life in a more positive light. I don't want to be critical of things I see and things I'm aware of--I don't want to be like my father. I want to think of things in a good way. And I don't want to talk about myself all the time--I don't want to feel the need to relate everything to myself (out loud, anyway) when people tell me about things that happen to them or feelings they have. My plate is very full, is it not? But I think I will enjoy life a whole lot more if I can do these things. I'm not sure what chemical changes I will need to work on to achieve any of this, or if chemicals will help me, but I'm working on that. A pinch of this and a dash of that. Appointment with psychiatrist next week to go over our latest cocktail.

And now it's 40 and sunny and feels much more like April, but like Cat, if I hear one more person say something about the weather I'll have to make myself into a tiny little ball like Chances does. Last night my dogs were soooo cute. They went outside, parked under the bird feeders and ate quarts of sunflower seed and sunflower seed husks, then came inside and puked them up. Quarts, I tell you. And these dogs aren't polite about it, they give no warning. Chances just got a queer look on her face and puked next to my foot. Then did it again on the rug by the door when I tried to get her outside. Tess pretended she was trying to go outside and unloaded her burden in front of the door. Buckets full this was. I called them both assholes and cleaned it up. Suffered a lot then got over it and watched the rest of Friday Night Lights. Man oh man is that coach handsome. Really handsome.

Now on to Reminiscences of the 123rd Regiment, N.Y.S.V. , pub. 1879. What is N.Y.S.V.?