I forget who said it

and apparently it wasn't Mae West, who I originally thought, but anyway, someone once said something along the lines of: either you can keep a diary or you can have a life to write about. So too with the last week or so, which has involved two parental visits (and related cleaning and entertainment) with an aunt and uncle thrown in for one of them; two trips to SoCal universities involving talks with prominent people in the audience and shmoozing with colleagues; teaching, office hours, complainy students, questions on Assignment 2 ("is blue ink only ok?" the latest); a "Sundance reunion" party at a fancy hotel bar in Santa Monica (I was just the arm candy), and like 20 other things that don't spring to mind at the moment but certainly took up my time and energy.

Now I have the dilemma I frequently have, which is: work at home or work at a cafe? The cafe I can walk to has undrinkable iced tea, but free internet. And plenty of handsome men to look at, but none who might be oriented towards me, so to speak. A cafe I can bike to has more straight guys and better drinks, but the intertron is paid access only and expensive to boot. Pros of being at home include being able to stay in house clothes -- today a camisole, hoodie, and kind of baggy hiking pants, plus lots of kitties. Pros of being out include not being in my freaking house working, which is something I do kind of a lot of. And with the pay internet being so annoying that I refuse to do it, being able to focus on the work I have to do without being distracted by, say, blog entries. What to do, what to do...