A quiet Sunday, mostly, spent hanging around the house with the dog and doing the Times crossword. (He’s more into the jumble, actually.) I joined a couple of friends (and a new member, an acquaintance of a friend) for our weekly free-writing group, and I had a couple of photos accepted for inclusion in Small Beer Press’ A Working Writer’s Daily Planner 2011. I quite liked this year’s planner, and Gavin Grant recently put out a call for photos, so… And then finally, Kaleidotrope #9 got its first official review. (An unofficial one came in the other day.) It’s always nice to get feedback on an issue, good or bad, but especially when it’s good.
I went for another short walk, had pizza for dinner with my mother, and tried some homemade ice cream from a new local creamery. And that’s about it as far as Sunday goes.
Oh! But that blood drive that I thought was yesterday but wasn’t? It was actually today. Which I knew, because I’d written in my calendar that it was August 1. But I spent a lot of yesterday morning thinking Saturday was the first. But I was quickly disabused of that notion and was at multiple times reminded throughout the day that Sunday was actually the first. But I never made the connection in my brain between the corrected dates and the blood drive. I just happened to be walking past the church where it was being held earlier this evening. Had I eaten anything recently — I skipped lunch — and had it not been winding down anyway, I might have gone in to donate. Maybe next time.
