A week since I've posted! Either I've been doing nothing of any interest to anyone or else I don't have any need to procrastinate, or maybe a little of both.
I've been working, and I have the scars to prove it: paint splotches on my fingernails, blood blister where I smashed my thumb while changing a paint roller pad, sore wrist, elbow, and shoulder from addressing Christmas cards. Yes, I have a little course prep to do for next semester, but all my deadlines are so distant that they may as well be on Mars. Meanwhile, I paint and write and read and try to get ready for the holidays.
For months I've motivated myself to survive this impossible semester by promising myself two rewards at the end: a haircut and a visit to the grandkids. I got the haircut but the grandkid visit has been delayed because of various quarantine needs, but if all goes according to plan, I'm heading to their house two days from now--and if that happens to be my birthday, I can't imagine a better gift than some genuine face-to-face grandkid hugs.
And hey, maybe they'll give me something to write about too. Right now my life is about as exciting as watching paint dry, which I've been doing a lot, in between trips to the laundromat to watch laundry spin round and round. Tomorrow I think I'll address Christmas cards at the laundromat--two mindless, thankless acts of drudgery performed simultaneously! It just doesn't get any more exciting than that, folks.
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