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Wind blowing through my sails, it feels like I'm gone.
Normally, on a Labour Day long weekend, this post would contain a public accountability list: especially since the temperature's dropped like a rock today, and everything is crisp and cool and putting me in mind of roasting a chicken and wearing sweaters and wristwarmers everywhere I go. Thing is -- and I don't know if this is a side effect of getting rid of half of what I owned, or embracing the philosophy of maintenance cleaning (if I clean it while it's just a little gross, it won't get really gross!) or just finally being rid of forced-air heating that blows dust everywhere -- I don't really have all that much I need to be doing.
No, really. My primary responsibilities this weekend are to drink lots of tea, do a little cooking so my farmshare veggies don't go bad, and work on the edit letter for Above. That's about it. I do have to do a few little things like returning the empty milk bottles, but those really hardly count.
All this freedom is giddy and terrifying. *g*
No, really. My primary responsibilities this weekend are to drink lots of tea, do a little cooking so my farmshare veggies don't go bad, and work on the edit letter for Above. That's about it. I do have to do a few little things like returning the empty milk bottles, but those really hardly count.
All this freedom is giddy and terrifying. *g*
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This is one of those notions that makes perfect sense to me but that I never manage to implement. Cleaning up after a Changeling is about the height of my ambition there. Floors? Bathrooms? The bloody stovetop? (Oh sweet merciful gods the bloody stovetop.) Apathy!
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