It’s Friday night, and I find myself with nothing to do.  Seems like, I go all week, waiting and pining for the weekend to get here, and when it does, my excitement kind of deflates.  Had a nice dinner tonight with my partner and a friend of hers who was in town, a friend she doesn’t get to see very often but loves dearly.  So, after noms I found myself with a night completely to myself.  And I had a lot of things that I wanted to do–half a Ted Chiang collection yet to read, an entire novel yet to type out–but I ended up just sitting at my desk watching episodes of Firefly.  A satisfying night, but I’m left feeling restless.  I’ve been finding it harder and harder to relax lately; just kick back and do the things that I want to do.  I think  part of this is, because free time away from job or school stuff is so rare, I have all of these things that I want to do when that free time comes.  But, while my personality type loves being busy, I hate feeling like I have things hanging over my head.  As a consequence, when I have a night like this away from school or work, I end up not doing the things I really wanted to do because, within that free time space, they feel not like joys but obligations.

Eh.

On a side note, I was directed via Sophisticated Dorkiness to Black Cover, a blog that obsessively searches for the perfect little black notebook.  As a self-professed stationary geek–the pen aisle at Wal-Mart gets me excited; the journal section at Barnes and Noble has the strange quality of making me forget my poorness–I loved the obsessive attention to detail this site has, details normal people without deep love for impressively-bound blank paper.  For the last several years I’ve been using Moleskine notebooks without any real thoughts about what else was out there.  I mean, Picasso used a Moleskine.  Hemingway used a Moleskine.  It’s gotta be the best, right?  Not so says Black Cover.  Definitely worth checking out.  On the pen side of things, I’ve been using my blue Sharpie Pen almost exclusively for the past few weeks after getting a pack in the mail from my mom, another self-professed pen slut.  Also, been using Papermate PhD pencils since high school.

Alright, now maybe I’ll go get something productive done.  This novel isn’t gonna transcribe itself.  Then again, my bed isn’t gonna sleep in itself, either.