Can't think of what I was thinking when I thought of something else. Got derailed somewhere a little west of here when I went walking at lunch to the top of the butte and back down. Breezy and big trees and sunshine and I could have kept walking because walking feels good even if my right ankle feels dangerous today. It's sending quiet threats to falter if I step wrong and then laugh at me for stumbling. Must have slept crooked, the bones and ligaments slipped disjointed and misaligned. This doesn't happen often; my body usually cooperates with any request I make of it, and I usually feel good enough to skip and jump at any moment. It disturbs me when I feel frail. But walking feels good.

Fell asleep last night with S holding my hand and awoke with him asleep and dreaming he was opening a pickle jar or something because after I'd extricated my fingers from his grasp they throbbed so much I didn't think I'd get back to sleep. Little things kept me awake and waking dreams kept me asleep. Dreamt my friend cut off all her hair and smoked black cigarettes in a streetside cafe and looked at me unforgivingly for something I haven't done.

I went to court this morning and saw the wheels turning ponderous and immense with grinding giant iron wheels like those that cut ruts in the earth so deep the Romans built roads to avoid getting high-centered. I stifled yawns and leaned attentively forward since I sat right up front at the big glass-top carved mahogany table, attorneys and clients coming and going and there I sat, opposite the judge, recording my notes. It would be interesting if it weren't so boring and I had Wire's "I am the fly in the ointment" in my head the entire time.

When I pulled on my nylons this morning S gave me a quizzical look and said he doesn't understand why part of womens' business attire includes clothing that is made to look like there's no clothing. I'm only glad nylons are not something I wear every day, and as soon as I returned to the office I peeled them off inside out like a discarded snake skin and stuck them in my bag.

Maybe my thoughts will cycle back again to where they were and then I'll write what I meant.