Scrubscoured two bathrooms, mopswept one large kitchen and washed dishes, talked to People for Lengths of Time (one social, one friend, situational difficulties with family member; broken electronics), got Things around, and am already too tired. No books tonight but my journals, no coffee tonight but tea in my new loose-leafy-brew porcelain mug.
Find myself listening to Moby again, which is weird. Why do people listen to Moby? "The Rain Falls and the Sky Shudders". I am so taking my ipod with me tomorrow, and some textbooks. Gaw. Wuthering Heights? If on a winter's night a traveler? The Blithedale Romance? Or just a copy of "Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau" to mark up AGAIN?
Ok, miss rika. Drink tea, brush teeth and hair and other civilised bedtime rituals, write in journals, and then go to sleep.