Thanks to the Christopher, who both e-mailed me a picture of soup, and now apparently is staging an imaginary mob hit to avenge my SSHRC rejection. He's a thoughtful one.
My mood and my condition were muchly improved by an unplanned nap on the couch (how is it that I slept better with journal articles in my lap and my computer at my feet, than when I cleared the couch and laid down properly?)
Meg and I are attempting to figure out a quick supper, but have not grocery shopped in quite a while (this is the nature of April). This sends us to searching the freezer. You find interesting things when you look through the freezer: one pie that I made last summer. Many pie shells. One hot dog. Just one. Egg rolls, also purchased last summer. And many other treasures, which are still edible. Huzzah!
I am wearing: red sweatpants, navy yoga shirt, bare feet.
Songs listened to since I began this post: "Killing Me Softly," Roberta Flack, "At Last," Etta James, "Angel of the Morning," Merillee Rush. I've been listening to mellow music all afternoon.
I think I'm now just compulsively blogging.