A day of work at Pegasus Books.

Now when I work at the store, I'm expending all my energy into selling instead of pacing myself. If I'm allowed to say, I become a bit of a charm monster. This entails being insanely sincere and open when I talk to people. I worked at the store twice in one week while Sabrina was off at the Seattle comic convention.

I sold 5 copies of "Deadfall Ridge" just by bringing the subject up. (Well, that and standing there with a pathetically hopeful look on my face.) It proves, I think, that thrillers have a much wider appeal than horror novels, which is obvious in hindsight.

Also sold a copy of "Tuskers" to a kid who was intrigued by killer pigs.

Anyway, as I say, I don't pace myself and therefore spend ALL my social capital in one 8 hour burst. By the end of the day, I'm a little tired of my being a charm monster.



Overdid the exercise yesterday. There are 107 steps down into the Dry Canyon, which is five minutes walk from my house. I made the mistake of running up them. I more or less collapsed on the top, talked to some lady who out walking for 25 minutes while I recovered.

(I continue to selectively perceive aches and pains as warnings, when all they may be is aches and pains.)

I've become much more social these days. The pills help, but also, I've just been socialized.

But I still prefer to be alone on my walks.

The Dry Canyon trails are way, way too busy. Even if I didn't mind that, I wouldn't be able to swerve off the trail and sit and write. I'm already the odd one by not having a dog along.

Anyway, I felt very off last night. Waking up in a daze this morning, I also realized that my day at Pegasus Books was also way more tiring than I thought.  Makes me wonder how I'd handle 5 days a week. Pacing is everything.