- I am carrying around a massive sleep deficit and will not be arising early for weeks and perhaps months to come.
- I am a lazy brat.
- both (a) and (b) above.
Well, be that as may be, I arose in a cold, quiet house. (I did open my eyes enough to chat with the historian a couple of times. I'm not a barbarian.) I worked out. I showered. I ate pancakes. (The first pancakes of summer!)
We have a young friend living with us for awhile. He's a musician. He's working on composing some new songs. I heard some epic drumming from downstairs, because he can and does play multiple instruments. That drumming helped me
- write notes for two new poems
- consider a few things I needed at Target (a new trowel, gardening gloves, pruning shears)
- call the appliance repair guys so they can come fix my washing machine, which has been doing this weird stop-in-the-middle-of-a-cycle for about two years now, so, you know, now seems like a good time to get that taken care of
I also used the drumming to motivate me to
- load the dishwasher
- put away a vast amount of clean dishes and other stuff that had been hanging out on my counter for awhile
- straighten up my laundry room, because I don't need that appliance repair guy judging me like a judgmental bastard
The quiet: the people, it is a blessed, blessed balm to me.
Soon, I will take up what I believe is my big project of the summer, which has something to do with religious language. Maybe archaic and religious. Anyway, why this is a language I keep returning to--I am going to investigate that. The quiet seems like a good locus for a project like that. I will return and report. Maybe. Or maybe I will just keep it to myself, like a novitiate who has taken a vow of silence.
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