where the heck did all the energy come from?
Thursday, Oct. 21, 2004,

I was a fountain of nervous energy when I got home last night. After I picked up Spouse, and he dropped me off to pick up my car, I zipped home and jumped right in to making dinner, cleaning the kitchen, doing laundry and other chores around the house, and just being a busy buzzy bee.

I sat down later and tried to play Bookworm on the PC, but I was still feeling to edgy to sit still. So was Raj, so we took a walk to get some fresh air and try to settle down. It settled her down, but I was still fidgety.

So I turned on TCM. �Oklahoma!� was on; right at the dream ballet, and the grace and beauty of the great James Mitchell sucked me right in. God, he was hot back in the day. Hey, who am I kidding�old �Palmer Courtland� is still pretty dashing, even at eighty-four!

But still feeling itchy, I decided to bead a little. So I got out the supplies and whipped up a copy of my �mermaid� bracelet. Start to finish, about an hour. I didn�t go to bed till ten, and even then I had to zip through a couple of crosswords before I could fall asleep.

But I have to admit that I then slept like the dead all night.

And he thinks he�s such a dynamo this week, which cracks me up. Getting the basement cleaning started, finishing the ceiling fan install, and repairing and cleaning the dehumidifier all in one week evidently qualifies you for sainthood. I do more around the house in one weekday evening, after he goes to bed, than he does in a month. But if he were to acknowledge that, he would probably have to deal with his conscience (small as it is), so he just doesn�t �see� it.

He�s leaving for the road on Saturday, apparently. I only know this because he did his usual trick the other day�telling someone else he�s going out of town, and letting me overhear it. He almost never tells me directly. Sometimes he leaves his printed itinerary where I can find it. Mostly it�s the tell someone else when she�s in the room gambit. I�ve repeatedly asked him not to do it, but this is another �guilt thing�, I guess. He perceives it as bad news, so his conscience would stick him if he told me. He keeps doing it. I still don�t know where, or for how long. Truthfully, I can�t be bothered to ask. It�s not bad news at all, anyway. Not good, not bad. I have no idea why he feels so guilty.

Beading: Haven�t finished the eyeglass-hanger necklace, but took a break and did a copy of my mermaid bracelet for a co-worker/acquaintance. Finished it in one sitting--those go quick!