comme ci comme ca

Oh, my mojo is wonky wazooky these days. I'm up, I'm down, I'm all around the town. I wake up feeling hungover (having drunk nothing to induce such a feeling), swim for 50 min., feel like a new little superhero, go down to my management company to re-sign my lease (I missed a bunch of pages - d'oh!), come home, dechlorinate, have a brief meeting with a potential client who probably can't afford me, call bike shop, eat something or other, work a bit, daydream about this and that, IM, waste time, buy a new saddle, watch a Robert Redford movie with half an eye, work some more, play with sweet kitty cat, blah blah blah.

Really, I seem to feel best while I am in the pool. And just after (well, once I've dried off and warmed up). In the pool I am a superhero. Out of the pool, I am mortal, oh so mortal. And I have not the power to change myself into a tall blonde 20-year-old. And I have not the power to will the universe to act according to my specifications and/or desires.

And I had to put on a Clark Kent suit yesterday, which always queers the mojo in some way, even though I stripped it off at the earliest possible moment and changed it for a Speedo.

Not knitting. Can't be bothered. I feel the early spring loss of all interest in knitting coming on. Whoop de doozle.

On the plus side, I received a magazine with an illustration of a wiggly blob on the cover and under it the caption: Is this the shape of the universe?

So I figure, compared to that, I am in reasonably fine fettle, all things considered. Sort of.