Sunday night

23 minutes to Mad Men.  Very excited.

This weekend I dealt with my head and alternatively tried to think and not think about scenerios and solutions on how to deal with issues at work.  I can't help but feel more and more deeply what a waste and drain it is.  Although it is where I spend 8-9 hours a day.  Always the dilemma.  Must have paycheck. 

I got very serious with a budget, took a scapel and shaved it more, got a debt consolidation plan going and in 4 years and 7 months, will be debt free.  I like that.  I'm gonna go crazy saving money.  I had a long talk with a good friend on Thursday over champange cocktails at HH and heard how she did it.  There's a book I must find and I'll read others like it, but it's one of those that challenge what we've been conditioned to think that we need and want.  I all ready live fairly frugally, but I want a few earthquake type shifts in my perceptions of money and stuff and security.

It was a gorgeous weekend, sun streaming in.  I felt something magical this morning, in the parking lot at Trader's Joe's, talking to my friend from the building, who had ridden his bike there.  It was something like just being rooted or grounded in my pretty neighborhood, with good stores to shop, and people living, small (but large).  It's the first time in a while that I've done a 'big' shopping that required a car.  I've done great the last couple months, buying a bit at a time, walking, to Whole Foods, the farmer's market, Trader Joe's and Walgreens next door.  I'm stocked now though. 

I thought I would write more this weekend, but the numbers kind of drained me.  I've started the pot smoking employee saga.  I'm going to a marathon-6 hour writing meeting, with lunch and breaks next Sunday in SF at a cafe through Meet Up.  They meet a lot during the weeknights as well, but I like the idea of a long session.  Once I'm there, no distractions, get my groove thang going again, (hah, I wish).

Did Bikram yesterday and Vinyass Flow here today.  I was very edgy all day, but feel that something, me is in transition and I just don't want to miss it, althought I feel that more should be happening as well.  Am I ever happy?  My happy moments seem very internally rooted and come with the sun hitting me a certain way, or hearing someone laugh, or my adorable strange cat's face, searching mine.  I guess they count, they feel good, but they don't seem very relateable.

Sunday night melancholy.  The saddest night of the week.  And now a noir sexy show to watch with some chocolate.  Sweet dreams to us all.  Sweet lucid dreams.