Thursday,
April 3, 2003
The ongoing search for sleep
Okay, my subconscious obviously hates me. That is the only explanation why I had a dream this morning that there was some sort of severe weather warning going on, and I had to take my earplugs out so that I'd be able to hear the sirens when they went off. I woke up around 3:00 AM with the plugs in my hand, waiting for the All Clear so that I could put them in again.
For reasons I don't fully comprehend, I put them away instead of putting them in my ears, and was awoken at 4, 6 and 7:30 by snoring or the fukaktah Gateway Cat. I'm starting to see the appeal of catfur slippers, I truly am.
Ow. Ow ow ow ow ow
But it's a good ow, which is something. Due to illness and visiting relatives over the last few weeks, I've fallen sadly behind in my workout schedule, so I decided to get serious about it this week (hey, I'm supposed to be teaching a Bellydance 101 class at A-Kon this May -- I'd BETTER be in relatively fit shape by then, or there will be hell to pay).
So, I've hit all three days of weight lifting, added an exercise for strengthening the hamstrings in an attempt to help my poor, battered knees, and right now I'm sitting here with my legs gently trembling as a result of my squats, stiff-leg deadlifts, calf raises, and hamstring curls done a couple of minutes ago in the gym. But that's not all, no no no. My arms are aching from the bench press, tricep press, assisted dips and standing barbell press of yesterday, and my abs are questioning my decision to do 60 crunches on the Swiss ball. My deltoids and traps are bitching about the upright row and dumbbell curls of Monday -- in fact, the only muscle group that was actually happy to be worked was my lats. Silly lats.
Okay, I'll stop whining now (I can whimper quietly to myself). On the writing side of things, I had lunch with Jeff and we talked about various anthos and how phrases like "cutting edge" and "we want something NEW" really mean "we have no idea what we really want." Arrgh. However, it seems that a certain editor of my acquaintence who DOES know what she wants has just sold an antho to a publisher, and there's a fighting chance that I'll be able to submit a story. She doesn't start reading until March 2004, so I think I have time to whomp up something acceptable by then. Who knows -- I might even be an up-and-coming writer at that point, and the publishers will want me to be in the antho.
Oh, to be wanted by publishers. . .
Speaking of that,
I got my second piece of positive feedback from "Female of the Species," so
I'm a happy camper, if a somewhat shaky one. Whee. . .