I don’t know what I expected not working to be like. Sunnier, I suppose. And more productive. But I hadn’t accounted for myself in the equation: the lazy boring awefulness that is moi. And the disorganization. And the ennui.

Brian and I are going to be housesitting starting tonight. Hurrah! Yard! And hurrah! Wacky dogs! I'm looking forward to writing (sans these distracting internets) in Shelly's secret garden.