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It's cold out, and I may have a cold--congestion, certainly. So I turned around after a block and came home, via the store downstairs for tissues and bread, instead of going downtown to the gym, bank, et cetera. Yes, I could still have run the errands, but they aren't that urgent, and a block of slight gradient and chilly air (−2°C) left me short of breath. Heated apartments are good.
I futzed around with computer solitaire for a bit, then gave Heather downstairs an ear and a little good advice. Rule of thumb: if I think someone is talking unusually fast, "take a deep breath" is good advice. This is partly that I know her usual speed, and this was way above it: she's not a native New Yorker, she's English. Then I made a couple of suggestions to go with what she said she's planning, mostly "put it in writing," and did my best to calm her down.
A bit more solitaire, and then copyediting (to the background of The The's Mind Bomb--loud, angry, rock and roll seemed to fit my mood. A bit odd, sorting the lyrics in my ears from the words on the screen. I can write to music, as long as either it's purely instrumental or I know it moderately well. A new song will have me focusing on the lyrics, not my own words. But I know this album, know it well enough to sing along, and it was still a bit distracting. Still, the work got done, and I've sent it off to the author with some queries, but most of them are very straightforward. (For example, at one point he urges readers "if you have something useful for this, contact so-and-so," and I've asked for so-and-so's email address so they can do so.)
Tea, lunch, and then see if we have hot water again.
I futzed around with computer solitaire for a bit, then gave Heather downstairs an ear and a little good advice. Rule of thumb: if I think someone is talking unusually fast, "take a deep breath" is good advice. This is partly that I know her usual speed, and this was way above it: she's not a native New Yorker, she's English. Then I made a couple of suggestions to go with what she said she's planning, mostly "put it in writing," and did my best to calm her down.
A bit more solitaire, and then copyediting (to the background of The The's Mind Bomb--loud, angry, rock and roll seemed to fit my mood. A bit odd, sorting the lyrics in my ears from the words on the screen. I can write to music, as long as either it's purely instrumental or I know it moderately well. A new song will have me focusing on the lyrics, not my own words. But I know this album, know it well enough to sing along, and it was still a bit distracting. Still, the work got done, and I've sent it off to the author with some queries, but most of them are very straightforward. (For example, at one point he urges readers "if you have something useful for this, contact so-and-so," and I've asked for so-and-so's email address so they can do so.)
Tea, lunch, and then see if we have hot water again.