I was feeling pretty tired and gloomy today, and my tendonitis has really been bothering me in the last week or so. So after work I mainlined 5 episodes of Project Runway (season 4), did all my laundry, and had an epic dinner. Well, not epic so much as I just ate a lot:

- almost an entire roasted butternut squash
- a cup of quinoa, which makes about 3-4 cups cooked, mixed with a mound of collard greens (about 2 cups cooked), lemon juice, sunflower seeds, garlic, olive oil, sunflower oil, and nutritional yeast

Yay! I don't feel bad shoving food in my face when it's mostly pretty healthy. I've been off sugar for a good 6 months now, and I'm definitely more trim than I used to be (my pants are all too big). Yay, yay.

I'm now going to ice my wrist (in the not-cool-hip-hop-slang way) and read some Maureen McHugh. My new favourite genre consists of whatever it is Maureen McHugh, David Mitchell, and Kim Stanley Robinson can be called. It's like lefty slipstream-sci-fi fiction that's obsessed with mixing and playing with culture and gender and sometimes magical realism. I've read all of David Mitchell and I'm running short on McHugh. Robinson is only good in limited doses (he tends to get way overly detailed and boring, except in The Years of Rice and Salt, which was pretty much perfect). Sometimes Haruki Murakami almost goes there (particularly in Kafka on the Shore,which was good until it fell apart at the end), but I feel like he misses the mark too often. Where to go from here, I don't know. I am open to suggestions.