fifteen miles on the Erie Canal

STATE OF THE CHILL DEATHMARCH:

words since 9:00 AM Saturday: 554
sleep since 9:00 AM Saturday:
hours in deathmarch so far: 4
showers: 1
pages written:
pots coffee: 1 (with some vanilla ground up in it)
large mugs salabat:
pots tisane:
pots tea:
It Came From The Juicer: Beet greens, garlic, and radishes. I think this experiment is unlikely to be repeated, she said mildly, as the result was devoid of any value except the medicinal. The beet greens tasted a little too much like fresh compost. But I'm sure it was good for me.
alcohol:
drugs: 800 mg. naproxen, 1 OTC Zantac
dancing: around the kitchen
handfuls of nutritional supplements: 1 (fish oil, evening primrose, calcium, b complex, glucosamine chondroitin)
food: corned beef hash and eggs.
stomach: equivocal
state of the catbox: freshly scooped
laundry situation: desperate

No manic focus yet, but my brain does seem to be letting me listen to music, which alleviates the pounding boredom somewhat. Also, my brain is talking to me and giving me useful words in interesting patterns, so that's a win.

I badly want a nap. going to find some lunch instead. I suspect this chapter (chapter 18) may be Zeno's Chapter and need to be subdivided.

I think the next thing to die in the juicer is some of these apples.