A three-day weekend and not a moment too soon. I’m a little cross-eyed from all the running around and doing eleventy-five things at once, so I am hermiting it hard tonight.
Going back to my old ways of drawing the blinds and curling up with some schlocky TV and a pile of neglected knitting and a cat or two. Listening to the hum inside my head. Padding around the house and considering the urgency of new carpeting so as to improve my padding life.
Worrying less about punctuation, expectation, necessitation, and actualization.
Slipping into speculation, giving into sweet temptation, contemplating defenestration.*
*I live in a one-story house.
This might call for cookies.