I priced and arranged placement of three political ads for my candidate group in three local newspapers. I drafted, finalised and submitted a convention report. I composed the text of a letter to some UK reference libraries. I checked in with people by telephone. They checked back. I emailed.
I forgot to eat any lunch--unless ginger biscuits count.
They were gingersnaps made by Archway--not quite as wonderful as McVities, but nice enough. In an idle moment--before I binned the empty packet--I studied the nutritional information on the back and discovered that a serving size is five cookies, equalling 150 calories. That's 30 calories per cookie. I reckon I consumed two servings over the course of the day, totalling 300 calories.
I've no idea how many calories I consume in the average day, because working it out requires the advanced mathematics skills I so sorely lack.
Yesterday for breakie I had a banana. For non-lunch, ten gingersnaps. During the course of the day I drank buckets of tea (milk, no sugar) and in the evening had my glass of wine. For supper (I dined alone, the Chap had a Vestry meeting), I fried 2 small eggs on small toasts and made a Big Green Salad with romaine lettuce. I don't think that adds up to zillions of calories--just as well, considering I sat at my desk all day long.
I did exercise with my free weights, as usual. And I climbed our staircase more times than I can count.
On a recent doctor's visit, I found out I'd lost several pounds since the previous doctor's visit a few weeks earlier. I wasn't trying, but I'm certainly not complaining.
Prime time television isn't the addiction it used to be, and I don't think it's my fault. Last night, I was actually working on my novel--except during Heroes. I have a lot of thoughts about Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Unfortunately, yesterday's edition of USA Today beat me to it.
Yesterday I listened to BBC Radio 4 all day long. Today I've switched to Five Live.
Here's the current landscape from my office window. That's the winterberry tree with all the red berries--the birds have barely made a dent. On the grass below is a chipmunk who probably isn't Gilbert.
I'm loving today. There's nothing I'm s'posed to do but write a book. And make chicken curry for our dinner.
I don't know whether I'll lunch. Now that the gingersnaps are all gone.