I recall being told, a long time ago, that moving around was a good tool with which to control depression. I think physical exercise was meant, but.
I didn't go to bed until nearly 1am, and I was cold (the cotton sheets don't warm up nearly as fast as the silk ones do), and I dreamed about being cold all night, and I woke up still cold, only not so bad. The phone was ringing, and it was 8:45am. I ignored it and went back to sleep, crawling out reluctantly (still cold) around 10:30 or so. Nothing got done except making breakfast and geeking, and eventually I was cold enough to crawl back in bed to read some more (the updated edition of DANDR, and perhaps I'll expand on that some more for dietfolks).
Finally clobbered myself into getting dressed and leaving the house, on the grounds that I had something to pick up at Schaub's, and it wasn't going to wait forever. And as I drove in, the fog thinned and disappeared, and the clouds broke up a bit revealing actual sunlight, and I played phone tag with various people.
So I'm at Erik's now, and we will have dinner together once he returns from MacWorld, and I will apply to the Bank of Fair (sigh, but necessary, and procrastinating on this is part of what's been driving me crazier than necessary, lately). And I got a call back from the potential consulting gig, which was so amusing that I will attempt to reproduce it:
He: "So, in the last two weeks, I have achieved consensus from the people whose budget I will be spending, (to hire me -ed) and I have achieved consensus that there is a foo which should be done, and I have achieved consensus that Ambar is the person who should do it, and tomorrow I will get the two people who have previously drawn the short straw and been asked to do these things, which you will be doing, into the same room, and get them to achieve consensus on what exactly foo consists of."
I also elicited the information that bugging him every 2-3 days about this is acceptable and welcome, and I will damnit do so.
But now, to dinner.