magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

The dreams caught me off-guard this AM, but I can't recall anything about them now. Hit snooze but got out of bed two minutes later. Post-shower I couldn't figure out if it was Saturday or Sunday. Coffee helped for a bit. Work-work. Library-work. Dinner in studio. Or maybe it was lunch as I may or may not eat again when I go home. A few hours later and I'm feeling about as displaced in time as I was this morning. People are live-tweeting the Oscars pre-show, but in my head I'd let it all ride on a bet of midnight.

What it comes down to, I guess, is a need to better structure my overlong weekends. I've been in my studio every day. And even had a tentative schedule of stuff to work on. But still, the last four days are something of a jumble of ideas left out to melt, web pages clipped to Evernote, things to remember jotted in my pocket Field Notes and promptly forgotten, an exploratory Processing sketch, and a handful of cough drop wrappers strewn around my desk. And more I'm sure, but that's point, I can't recall what they are.

Then again. Sundays have always been that day. For the last 20 years at least. Tomorrow's Monday. Tuesday's a new month. Go team go.