Good going, Amy.

Really, I want the same thing I've wanted since I was about 6: Leave me alone and let me be.

My mom used to tell people about how when I was five or six my stated ambition was to be a toll booth attendant, on the theory that you would get to pretty much sit there in the booth and read all day.

Okay how come it seems perfectly reasonable to me to plan a vacation around seeing a play in London, but when Allen Leech (who I lurve) is doing a play in L.A., even contemplating going seems insane?

I mean, the answer to both those questions is I really need to be spending that money on new windows for my house, so maybe I still am in the midst of a mid-life crisis.

My mom used to tell people about how when I was five or six my stated ambition was to be a toll booth attendant, on the theory that you would get to pretty much sit there in the booth and read all day.

I used to think the same thing! Parking attendant, bathroom attendant (although they don't really have those so much anymore), anything where you just had to sit and wait for customers meant reading!

I still think that's an appealing job, except for potentially having to deal with road rage-y drivers.

Being a Park Aide on Mt Diablo was pretty close to toll booth attendant, come to think of it. The days I was working at an entrance, anyway. I don't remember reading a lot, but I'm not sure that means anything.

Turns out the reason the anesthesiologist didn't call is because they had the wrong phone number, courtesy of the paperwork my doctor's office sent over. This was an inauspicious beginning, followed up by my going to the place in the hospital that said "Radiology", and then finding out that no, I had to register at the front desk, and then probably go somewhere else.

Anyway, we were stressed and grumpy for a bit, but it was all eventually fine. Anesthesiologist was good, answered all of our questions, MRI tech got excited that Mike was reading Miss Marvel, and so on.

I am only moderately sleepy, but I think it's enough that husband needs to drive me to rehearsal.

Yeah, not driving seems wise. Glad for eventual fineness!

I'm glad it all worked out in the end, Dana.

I'm glad the MRI went fine, Dana!

I have decided that I don't have to think about what I want to do with my life until after I finish my certification courses at Stanford. Which shouldn't take that long since I'm on the last one, but having a legitimate reason to procrastinate is so freeing.

I've decided that since work won't allow me to take the spring vacation I'd wanted, I am going to Atlanta either this weekend or next to see *The Most Fabulous Story Ever Told* at a theatre there. Even a one-night trip ought to blow a little steam off, and I've loved that play for 15 years or so.

Timelies all!

We are home from Toronto. The trip took a bit longer than planned, but it wasn't Mr. S's fault.(Gary ate something that disagreed with him, so we had a few extra bathroom stops.) The con was fun.