Didn't sleep well last night. Couldn't fall asleep until after midnight, then woke up at 3am. Peed (of course, I'm always peeing these days, trying to keep my water intake at about 2L) downed a shot of Dewar's, then read 12 pages of The Morphology of Folk Tales until the letters blurred and I turned the light off again at 4:15am. As a result I slept until 8, which made me late for my massage with Wayne. Called and he was fine with it. The massage itself was more like an exchange: Wayne and I breathing and moving together, chatting humorous and with affection, sometimes touching Wayne, telling him about my life and sharing all sorts of wonderful info. He told me about going to the RI Men's Gathering coming up – he goes every year with his dad and his son. That must be quite something – three generations – at a men's gathering. I've been wanted to do this for years, and I think I might go and even offer an erotica writing workshop, which is fun and meaningful and something gay and str8 guys can do together.
Made some unpleasant calls to three folks who won't make the cut in Bearotica 2. As it turns out, the length was 15,000 words too long, so I had to cut three stories. The first call went out to someone to whom this has happened before with this publisher, so of course he takes it as a vendetta against himself, although it's really about the fact that he submitted a very very long piece and was unwilling to cut it when I asked him about it a month ago.
I'm having all sorts of tech problems, which just frustrates the crap outta me: can't sync my Pilot with Entourage, the digicam is discharging fresh batteries, the new multifunction won't print from the computer or scan, can't seem to load the correct software to hook up to the streaming Siddha Yoga New Years Message online, and so on. Have to force myself to deal with these issues at a time I'd just as well not accomplish anything except finishing some of the dozens of unread books around the house. Or even better, just live my days quietly, attending to my own health needs. Haven't even meditated or exercised today, yet earlier today I called to check in on Hal – who's got health problems of his own, on major dialysis with nobody looking after him – and invited him to come over tonight for pizza and Python. But really, I'd just like to hibernate and nurse my wounds.
I imagine myself as a four-legged wolfbear critter, curled up on the couch with a remote in my paw, licking my own neck somehow (dang, ain't I got a pretty tongue!).
