at work, i had a hard time getting started. the engine that drives my ability to code wasn't working properly. thoughts of self-indulgence kept creeping into my mind, wandering the forest, going to the beach, cleaning the house, making food, anything but working. eventually i got going, eventually i put in a good 8 hours. i ate a square of leftover lasagna for lunch.
i came home and went out for a run. it's been a long time, my body was starting to forget. the sun was setting, the sky a dramatic periwrinkle magenta, after-work runners dotting the river's edge all aglow in the golden wash of sunlight. i ran into the harvard lady's volleyball team crossing the bridge, all tiny black shorts and athletic legs, their male admirers following them a distance from behind. my left knee still isn't quite right, and i ran on it gingerly, getting the sense that it could unbuckle at a moment's notice.
rob was at home when i got back, painting in his room, listening to music. i showered, i watched some television, i had dinner, toaster-ovened chicken wings, then later in the evening some more leftover lasagna. i have one more square left, saving it for lunch tomorrow, i don't have to go into the office. in red sox news, they lost to the orioles, but the yankees lost as well, so no harm no foul. a MASSPRIG volunteer rang my doorbell after 8pm. i was already shaking my head and closing the door when i saw who it was. "was she hot?" rob asked when i came back inside.