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Sunday

Nothing happened on Sunday*, unless you count brunch with the household (P's birthday), dropping off recycling, weeding, going to the lab, diatomaceous earthing the futon, cleaning the litterbox, putting away a half-dozen things that grew legs and walked around, and scrutinizing the calendar.

No rowing or Scrabble or work on the leafcutter manuscript, now due in two weeks based on my self-imposed deadline. Rowing has been getting the short end of the stick lately, which makes me particularly grumpy. It may be time to revise the rowing schedule.


*Written in the fashion of the Last Days column in the Stranger.

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