No platelet donation tonight; they won't do platelets if you're under 150 pounds, unless you have a really unusually high platelet count, which I apparently do not. So I did plasma instead. I was initially dubious about this because for me whole blood donation leads to pounding empty veins and the rare faint, but they swapped me about 400 ml of saline for 650 ml of plasma (I imagine they don't straight swaps, or give saline for whole blood donors, for reasons of proportions?). That was actually the only unpleasant part, as room temperature saline is much colder than blood, obviously; otherwise, I had one hand free to read my book [*], watched the machine in interest, and feel much less empty-veined than after donating whole blood. Takes a little longer, alas, but I think it's a good trade.
[*] I'm two books into what's probably going to be a binge on Laurie King's Mary Russell/Sherlock Holmes books, and wondering distractedly if I've found a new subgenre, novels that can be blamed on Gaudy Night. Miss Grimsley's Oxford Career, A Monstrous Regiment of Women, what else?
Unfortunately I happen to feel dreadful, just because of extreme lack of sleep, not because of donating. Work is still Work, but I squeezed in a bit of socializing this weekend with a dinner visit to some friends of Chad's over the Massachusetts border, and will steal an overnight visit to my parents' this weekend. And now I'm going to bed before we lose power again for another 30 seconds and I nearly doze off waiting for the laptop to boot back up.
(Oh, but warm weather for a part of the weekend, and several hours outside with no bug bites. Yay, working bug-trap-thing.)