Well, I was going to do this and I was going to do that today, but I ended up letting the day flow by and doing pretty much next to nothing. I did the dishes because I was out of clean plates, but I didn't do the laundry because I still have a few clean clothes left.

I didn't go outside because the wind was blowing and it was a Sunday. The only difference between Sunday and any other day is that on Sunday I don't have to go out in the wind. Nobody's expecting me to be anywhere or do anything, so I can stay inside and watch the wind through the protective glass barriers we call picture windows.

Lovely pictures and all, but I'm a better observer than I am a participant, especially on windy days. I could hardly breathe as it was, even staying inside, so I can only imagine how much worse it would have been if I'd been outside. I can imagine, but I choose not to. It's Sunday, after all, my day of not having to do what I don't want to do.

One of the things I was going to do today that I didn't do was drop the Moulin Rouge DVD by Suzanne's house. Instead, I watched some of the extras on the second disc, including the "Making Of" documentary which made me appreciate the movie even more.

Now I really do hope it wins a lot of awards on Oscar night, although I still haven't seen the Lord of the Rings movie. That's another thing I was going to do today.

These things add up, you know? It's kind of creepy to list all the things I don't do, because it makes my life seem kind of pointless, as if the rest of the world was all busy making things happen while I'm sitting around the house watching a movie about making a movie, instead of making a movie myself, or even watching the actual movie.

If you know what I mean.

I also watched the Down From the Mountain DVD, which is a movie about the music in another movie. I seem to be getting further and further removed from real life at every step. At least when I'm reading a book, it's an actual book, although someone else did write it. I don't see any getting around that conundrum, except for the fact that I, my own damn self, am writing this here. Not "this-here," but This. Here.

As you can tell, things were going swimmingly, and I was enjoying my day "off," until the Boss called at five o'clock on Sunday afternoon, for no better reason than to ruin my day. If that was his intent, he succeeded, at least for the hour or so it took me to calm down and run out of curse words and lose my voice shouting at the rafters (for all the help they were).

It seems he's decided at the last minute to bid on a job that he told me last week we weren't going to bid on. And the only reason he'd call me on a Sunday night to give me this bit of trivia is that the bids are due on Wednesday, which means I have to get ours into the overnight by Tuesday, which means I have to spend Monday trying to chase down a bid bond and fill out the bid forms and get them notarized and that was most definitely not how I planned to spend my Monday, especially since it also means a trip to Petaluma to our insurance company's offices where I never ever fail to get lost no matter how many times I've been there.

Oh, but that's not even the best of the bad. At nine o'clock (that's 9:00 pm), just as I was about to watch the 9/11 documentary on CBS, the Boss called again. He was on his way to my house with the bid form, because he couldn't figure out a better way to get it to me in time (and I wasn't about to volunteer to drive to Marin to get it).

He would call me when he got close, he said, and he did at about 9:40, just as he turned the corner onto my street. So I picked up my flashlight and headed out to the end of the driveway, because he's never been here before and I knew he'd never find it in the dark.

And then he wouldn't come in the house. He wanted to sit outside in his truck and go over the bid form with me, but I told him I wanted some copies of the parts he was keeping, so he waited outside while I came in the house and made my copies. I don't know what the deal is about not coming into my house, but I guess he was tired. Well, guess what. So was I, and I missed 9/11 (until I get a chance to watch it on TiVo).

If I thought I was going to get a good night's sleep after a restful Sunday, I now know otherwise. I'll be tossing and turning and stewing all night. Maybe I'll just stay up and watch 9/11, and then Moulin Rouge again. Three or four times.