Mr. Chiu and I had some luck at the city planning department, but not as much as he had hoped. He had speculated to me that we might be able to obtain our permits over the counter on our first visit. No such luck. The clerk there (who had some radical long dreds) told us he had to send the plans on to a couple of other departments, but that we should hear something in about a week.
I finished The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest today, and I found it enjoyable, but I think I liked the first and second books in the series better. This one didn't really involve much mystery. I think maybe the second was my favorite. Very character-driven.
Shannon and I have been attempting to refinance our house again (lower interest rates), but this bank is being far more difficult than the last one. The process has been going on for weeks and weeks, and they just keep requesting more and more documents, some of which are preposterous (they want proof of income for the next three years? who can provide that kind of thing?). Anyway, we shall continue to slog through the bureaucracy.
I went to Berkeley Bowl today to look for instant oatmeal that was less sweet than the Quaker's I've been getting, but I was overwhelmed by their selection of funky hot cereals. Every grain you can imagine was available for your hot breakfast delight, in many different combinations. Would you care for some sorghum? Maybe mixed with millet and amaranth? How 'bout if we add a dash of quinoa or spelt? (Sheesh! Do they sell this stuff anywhere else but Berkeley?) I was so baffled that I ended up walking out of the store with just a half cantaloupe. I'll make a cereal decision another day.
Shannon and I have been reading Gene Wolfe's Soldier of Sidon together, and I'm really not enjoying it much. It just feels needlessly opaque and pretentiously obscure. I've really enjoyed some of Wolfe's books (especially his Book of the Short Sun), but really Shannon is the Gene Wolfe fan, not me.
My sleep has been pretty restless the last few nights; I don't know why. I keep drifting back and forth between dreaming and waking, hovering in that state where reality in the darkened bedroom doesn't really take a well-defined shape, where the shadowy movements of the cats across the quilt seem ghostly and perhaps somehow significant, like omens. Funny -- I sleep more soundly during the day.