In which your host gets up early on a Sunday
I woke early this morning. I slept better than has been my habit, lately, but the antihistamines to combat the swelling from the allergies helped, I’m sure.
But after breakfast with Ms H, I set to work on projects around the house. I’m in my fourth month of residence at Mystery House, and there are still boxes everywhere. This is more a function of the sheer quantity of boxes that I started with than any indicator of essential laziness on my part. (I am lazy, of course, but there really were a metric shit-tonne of boxes of books and comics.)
Today’s projects will include hanging artwork, assembling shelves in the attic, carrying all the boxes of comics up into the attic, and… well probably watching a movie or something. All work and no play makes one a wholly unsympathetic character in a Stephen King novel.