It's about time...

Up before the crack of dawn to well-wish away my marathon-bikers, I follow these activities with hot chocolate and a curl-up in my dad's recliner. My cat is mad at me for a variety of reasons, namely for pinning her against the wall with the back of the hall door after she clawed up the oriental rug by the front door. So we are not on good terms at the moment. I am hoping she will forget both her misdeeds and mine - mine are so many more, and she is so well aware of them. Perhaps it is my hypocrisy that keeps her clawing up the rug. They learn by our example.

Should I tell you what I'm reading? That seems to be the theme of this blog. American Gods by Neil Gaiman. I am not sure how well I'll do with finishing it. It's good, but it's more in the style of Pynchon than O'Connor, and I don't know how I'd do with Pynchon without a deadline. That's not true. Gravity's Rainbow has been sitting on my dresser for weeks, unopened, unread. There you go.

I have a goal today. It is a good goal. My goal is to remove myself from the stupor. To do one or two significant things that are healthy and productive and proactive and useful for the people and relevant to my dreams. That probably means something like writing one good paragraph or baking cranberry oatmeal white chocolate macadamia nut cookies. Actually, that's exactly what it means. I should bring them to work tomorrow. Seal the love.