I like doing things.

That's why I like having a reason to leave the house.

Lately, I haven't had too many. Besides groceries. But yesterday, I took BART to the city ("it goes under the Bay?") and my sister took care of the rest. She brought me a soda and a falafel and took me to see Team America: World Police, which we naturally enjoyed. She then had an appointment with her personal trainer to jump rope or something, so I wandered up and down Polk St. for awhile before settling down in a boho-style cafe with a pot of herbal tea and a SF Weekly until she was done. Then there was wandering and soup and bread in the basement of Macy's before she got called to work and I got back on the train.

Though I had absolutely zero happening today, I hope tomorrow will be different. We might catch a matinee of I Heart Huckabees, finally, and we might head down to Santa Cruz. Kevin has computers to fix at relatives' homes, and relatives to spend time with, and I'm happy to tag along. I haven't met his grandfather yet, and I like his parents. So, yay.

But that's it. There is really nothing happening, particularly on the job front. It's depressing as hell, but if I think about Doing Stuff and not that I'm Not Doing Shit, I can pretend not to be depressed for awhile.