I sit here with hands thoroughly stained red. Oh, yes, and there's a strawberry pie congealing in the refrigerator. We shall have strawberry pie tonight, and it shall be goooood.

I might even make lemon bars. I've got enough time, and I think I've got enough lemons.

Note to self: I need to purchase or replace the following items: big spatula (I've killed another), lemon reamer, pastry brush, pasta forks.

This one's just gonna have to be a quickie. I'm sick of looking at a computer today.

I'm learning Flash—it's turning out to be not nearly so difficult as I thought it would be. I explained to Cathy today it's like drawing in photoshop on three axes instead of two—you have to think in terms of time as well of in terms of width and height. It was a bit of a shift, but not nearly the paradigm-shifting-without-a-clutch that I was expecting.I've got the first scene of the movie done—the intro. I don't know how to link the buttons yet—I'll figure that out either by my readings tonight or by tomorrow morning's explorations. Tomorrow I'm going to work on the kittypix portion of the flash movie. Shouldn't be difficult. I might have to try a morph from Edmund's face to Tenzing's. That will probably be amusing.

I ended up having to do a ton of running around today to get all my errands done. One of my last stops was at the farmer's market. I know, I know, I talk a lot about food. It's a fun subject. But I was browsing through all the things that are available fresh at this time of year, and I was reveling in it. The smells were fabulous—fresh peaches, eggs, okra, blueberries, tomatoes, blackberries, and mounds upon mounds of different kinds of beans.

I think perhaps yesterday just wasn't a day to write. Then again, yesterday was just an odd day in general—eight hours' worth of busywork at my company with no real pressing things to get done. I've been trying to work on a logging script so that I can better analyze the hits I'm getting on domesticat, but the script kept bombing out on me. By the time I fled my cube and drove home, I was annoyed, aggravated, and had a pounding headache.Luckily, the spousal unit was preparing dinner. That gave me a chance to take an aspirin, grab the nearest willing cat (last night's volunteer for Onerous Petting Duty was Tenzing—brutal life, isn't it?) and flop on the couch for a while until I was back to my normal goofy, chipper self. The cat was gratified by the petting (there was much shameless purring and tail-thumping), I was gratified by the dinner and the release from my headache, and thus I got a load of laundry done instead of just sitting on my ass all evening.

Looks like there's a name for this particular beastie I've got—"bronchitis." Eeeeeewwwww. Explains that little problem with breathing I've been having lately. I'm going to the doctor tomorrow morning to get this confirmed, but I've had this so many times that I think I can predict what he's going to say even before I fork over the cashola.

I'm a terrible patient. I know this. I deny being ill until I'm virtually dead on my feet (would anyone who has physically seen me in the past 48 hours please shut up already?). I dragged myself to work on Tuesday (4 hours) and today (5) and I'm wondering if I should just give up and not even bother going in tomorrow morning after my doctor's appointment.I suspect my co-workers will be relieved if I decide that.