Worry about work kept me up late last night; the heat kept me in today. I did some basic grocery shopping, but forgot to get coffee. Max seems better--of course, because he has a vet appointment tomorrow.
Today, a friend of mine whom I love and respect was bitching about how the development of cellulite has kept her from buying shorts. It was dramatic enough that I nearly said something like, "What a coincidence! I've been looking for months for shorts that'll coordinate with the huge hole in my head, the sores I get on my tongue from the prosthetic, and the wires that poke my gums."
Anger from work is obviously spilling over.
Tonight I'm going to read All Creatures Great And Small and eat a pile of toast. Tomorrow I'll see the Prosthodontic Fairy, then take the Zoaters to see the doctor he once tried unsuccessfully to bite, then come home and make salads and lunch for the rest of the week. It'll be a productive day, which is better than a day spent worrying and pacing.
Something is going to happen soon, I know that. I just wish I knew what it *is*.