At work, my task list has suddenly turned into an attempt to put ten pounds of shit into a five pound bucket (or pour ten measures of grain out of a five measure basket, from another point of view). It's going to be a train wreck, and I am going to have to put together the backbone today to do something about it, other than just "try to work faster".
Last night my ex jezel and I went out to dinner, sort of as a pre-birthday thing, since she will not be able to today, as she has to run right after work to make it on time to leave for the rehearsal retreat of the Seattle Women's Chorus.
I did a little bit of paperwork and such before going to bed, feeling so scattered and wiped I doubted I was going to be getting up for the morning dark workout. But no, I woke wide awake at almost 5am, so off I went. One hour, 810 calories, 4.1 miles. Third day in a row. I listened to my collection of African Drum pieces while going, that worked well, they pretty much are designed to be "running music".
I'm down to my last two trainer sessions, which will get used today at noon and then Monday. Saturday the plan is to go in and buy another 20. Steve said he would have all the paperwork ready. 24Hour is so stupid about that, I had to do less paperwork to buy my car, than it takes to buy a block of training session. They have, I feel, too many corporate drones who are terrified that someone might notice they don't actually contribute anything to the running of the company, so instead they "contribute" the need to generate paperwork.
Some weird dreams last night. The last one I had before waking, I was "the sidekick" in some generic action adventure story that was just getting going, but it was going very Badly. The hero had just got the drop on the insanely competent and capable eurovillain, but his revolver just clicked instead of fired. The whole sequence was like that, the villain just seemed to be able summon miracles like that to aid him. (Which is... interesting, in waking retrospect, given that it was all happening in the world simulator of my own brain.) I remember chasing the Hero down a long flight of stairs that he had just been thrown down, knowing that if I could just grab his hand, I could stop his fall. I didn't know why I knew that, and didn't even know to think of why I didn't know why I knew that I could. I did grab it, and stop him, by the way.