I feel a pressure to blog, in spite of my continuing deficit of brain.

It's supposed to be 98 here today. Forget the future of the planet and turn on the a/c! (Not that we haven't every day anyhow.)

My recent life:

Job-hunting - a few good ads, resumes submitted, thundering silence ensuing.

Gardening - staring at the plants, watering them twice-daily, otherwise losing interest in this game since, in the end, plants just sit there.

Laptop - owing to the aforementioned deficit of brain, I completely forgot that yesterday was Monday. I'm planning to take it in today, instead.

Travel - I need to book my last trip to KC for the first week of August. Kansas. In August. Be still my quivering (sweating, wilting) heart. I need to pack up great armloads of things, mostly fragile, to ship back here to Denver and then I need to figure out how to sell/dispose of them.

Head - I have definitely decided to cut my hair off. (Well, not me personally. I'll go to the stylist.) In spite of a lifelong distaste for my chin and my reluctance to wear my hair in any way that exposes it, I've just had it with all this hair. It's thick, heavy, and hot.

Excitement - Sadly lacking.

I have accomplished no amazing feats of house-cleaning or tidying up. I have started/finished no fantabulous new books (I'm not allowed to buy any new books while I'm unemployed) and have already talked too much about the "old" books I'm re-reading.

I have, essentially, been nowhere and done nothing.

This is partly the heat (I crouch indoors, snarling at the shimmering sunshine and crawling ever closer to the air conditioner) and partly a lack of imagination on my part. There's a whole, giant city out there but I can't seem to get interested in it.

I'm going to kick myself when I'm back in the 9-5 rut again. I know I am. I should do my daily job-hunting in the morning and then treat the rest of the day like an unexpected vacation. Sigh.

Maybe I'll do something exciting today? Besides cleaning house (the carpet cleaners come tomorrow, so I need to vacuum and tidy up) and taking the laptop in, I mean.

Actually, the R.C. and I went to the Worldwide Antique show at the Merchandise Mart last week. ("Worldwide" is a bit of an exaggeration. 90% of the booths seemed to be people from surrounding states.)

We saw many fabulous things, none of which I bought (not even the completely unused Sèvres dinner set for 12, for only $14,500) but many of which I coveted madly. Nor the pottery with the beautiful and unusual "Rose Tapestry" glaze that felt, to the fingers, like the glaze had been woven, not poured. I coveted those pieces very madly, but they were priced in the hundreds of dollars per piece.

We wandered around for a couple of hours, ooohing and aaahing and generally drooling on everything we got close to. We were eyeballed by no small number of vendors who feared that our enthusiasm might run away with us, to the extend of pocketing some attractive but expensive piece, but we also got to eavesdrop on some fascinating conversations as sellers educated buyers about the details of various bits and pieces of history.

Good times.