Well it seems like I have a constant 10% making travel plans of some sort. Where am I kayaking next weekend, does my uncle have plans for me this weekend, where to take lastwordy when she's here, do I want to go pony riding or whale watching in Iceland.
The actual travel time itself, well, it's proved I can really do all my work in four days a week (since I've pretty much been working an average of four days each of the last 10 weeks). This makes less time for writing (not to mention seeing shows). I stayed late at work to write up a mini-review of Ghost (the new musical) - there's no more time to do this stuff AT work as I'm too busy.
Another 20% of my brain is thinking about getting a new job. I have three jobs I'm being put out for currently; I could probably have more if I'd polish my resume a little more. But that takes more time ... and I've been telling a lot of recruiters no, I don't want a job doing what I did 5 years ago at the pay I made back then. No steps back. Please read the CV.
And I've been thinking about the ILR application. Yesterday's critical element was determining the date that marks my "qualification period." See, I can't apply until I'm within 28 days of that date, and I must make sure all my documents are nice and fresh when they arrive, so I can't get them together until about a week before I plan on submitting them. My "date" is, as it turns out, the date I arrived in the country, not the date I got my first visa or the date my current one expires, and through the magic of LJ I figured out that date is September 8th.
However the second I start thinking about this and all of the documents and all of the fiddly stuff my brain has a massive CPU failure as I obsess really quickly and all of the fiddly details just blow the circuits. This, I think, is why I lost my makeup bag somewhere in the last 24 hours, which means my new purple eyeshadow is gone, as well as three colors of the nice Covergirl lipstick I brought back from America, and the tiny bottle of base I bring with me to work (and these days use all of the time, no idea what is up with my skin). Stupid, silly brain, how could you fail me in something so important?
Comedy moment today: while in a bookstore, I gave a man advice on which translation of Proust was better, then pushed him hard to get to work on reading the series ... while buying a copy of Ulysses. Which I will read starting in about two weeks. I award myself the "if this is what a public education in America does to you I must come from a nation of prats" award.
That said ... I need some sleep, but at 11 PM at night I'm going to do a few more dishes. Woo woo. No rest for the wicked is not just an aphorism in my book - it's a way of life.