Forecast calls for more muzzy; sleep indunation.
The fe-lions are hungry and confused, and so am I. After an unproductive day I lay down to reread Laura Ann Gilman's Retriever's series (I've read the first three, and have acquired the last three). I remember petting Loosefur (who is entitled to petting whenever I read, in his little world) and putting the book [Staying Dead: www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss] down to do so.
And I had a confusing series of dreams involving my family, and F ex, and suddenly it was two and a half hours later. Mind you, I never nap. It takes too long to wake up, and then I have trouble sleeping that night.
So I've thrown a tube bread in the oven while I type this; my grand plans for orzo salad (at last!) being postponed another night. I have to eat, for my medication, or else I'd just give the felions fud and go back to bed. I don't really want to wake up.
My goals for the day are a shambles. Bleh. I have to keep reminding myself that the metrics are measurements, the goals, goals. And not to beat myself up, in any event.
So forgive any excessive(!) disjointedness, unusual typos or weird word choices. Thanks.
The regular broadcast will resume tomorrow.
ETA: Oh! Kagen's nomination confirmed. I"m hopeful about this; while I sincerely doubt she's anywhere near the "liberal" end of the spectrum, perhaps she'll bring something to the table.