underground

Good golly. Friday was stocking day at the yarn shop. By the end of the day, I was done, done, done. Saturday, I didn't need to see anyone or talk to anyone, so I didn't. I had the house to myself. So for the next 20 hours, I tidied up, I knitted, I read (a terrible book -- it's an ARC of a new book by a very popular writer who is not a very good writer. It's the only thing I did on Saturday that I was obligated to do and it's done). On Sunday, I recovered from my 20 hours of work. And I wrote -- revised, really. I'll write fresh stuff tomorrow.
So, there you have it. Not very exciting. I'll try for exciting tomorrow.
(And lest this sound depressing, I just want to note that I'm not depressed. In fact, I took a moment or two today to glory in the fact that I could just read, tidy, knit for 20 hours. And I didn't have to work at the newspaper tonight. I did my homework. And now I'm going to bed.)