A few statements I would like to make.

After years--years--of being on the verge of a total breakdown, my oven finally gave us the finger. By that, I mean it kept on flashing an 'F1' on the control panel and beeping repeatedly. If that's not a big fat insult, I don't know what is.

In other news, we will be buying a new oven tomorrow.

Oven breakdowns, flipping the breakers so we could unplug all the wires behind the control panel that looked like they were the ones in charge of beeping, and so on, did not deter us from our nightly rounds. By this, I mean we went to see The Martian. Which was excellent.

Tomorrow, my writing group is coming over. Suddenly, all my lunch plans feel oven-centric.

Fine, soup.

When we were in Scotland, my daughter's oven broke down all of a sudden and it did not work nor did it get fixed the entire time we were there. I think there's a definite pattern here.

I intend to get in bed tonight and sleep like an international prize-winning sleeper. Sleep: I am coming for you.

Things I said at dinner tonight that may or may not be true.

"I'm renouncing all of my ambitions, except in poetry."

"I'm giving up giving up stuff."