it's a great life, if you don't weaken (matociquala) wrote,
it's a great life, if you don't weaken
matociquala

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but then the valet brought around my plymouth belvedere

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Commencing work this morning with a dog who says the floor is much, much, much too cold, and can't you please turn on the summer, monkey?

Tea today is a nice Assam from Upton (Mokalbari East); teacup today is an autumnul Chinese cup with leaves and berries and cherry blossoms.

Temperature this morning: 24 degrees.

Apparently, les smice have been eating my pie overnight:

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I did not know that les smice used forks, however.

Not actually sure what work is getting done today--I think I'm going to go poke at Grail and see what happens. Having a third of it drafted is very reassuring: the end seems so much more attainable from here than from zero: I mean, 250 pages is little enough room that I start worrying about running out of space rather than how on earth am I going to fill this with interesting narrative?

And in conclusion, a dog loves you.

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Tags: giant ridiculous dog, tea, the daily commute, the writer at work
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