Today was spectacularly unproductive, in a start-something-stop-lose-interest-repeat kind of muddle.
And I have PMS. I know this, because at around 9:30 am I yelled “I AM TIRED OF LIVING IN SQUALOR!” and cleaned.
Plus I’m supposed to get a really important phone call, which has been rescheduled no less than five times, and which I’m not going to tell you about for all kinds of reasons which will be clear if I ever do tell you about it.
James called to inform me that there is an enormous scratch running the full length of the car, which has leaves stuck to it, and do I perhaps have any idea what this may be from? (Why, yes. Yes, I do. Damn hedge jumped me, and I had to fight back. It was it or me!)
And then there’s the book. My favorite book in all the world is “The Art of James Christensen” and I lost it awhile back. Could not find it.
Then I found it. It was in a closet. I took it out, I showed it to James, and I rejoiced.
Today I went looking for it to cheer me up, and the damn book has vanished again. I am dead certain that I put it somewhere safe, and now, of course, it might as well be on Mars.
In the depths of this morass of unproductivity and misery, as I sulked and sighed and thought that perhaps the day should just be written off as a total loss, there came…Ganesh.
Loyal reader Amy sent me a dark chocolate statue of Ganesh. I am grateful to the compassionate reader and the compassionate god both, because if there was ever a day I needed chocolate…
Thanks, Amy! Thanks, Lord Ganesh! You guys are the best.
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