Tuesday. Sunny and cold. The weatherbeans are adamant in their prediction of rain. We Shall See.
Trash and recycling at the curb. Did gym-like things at the gym. Car gassed up. Cat browsing stations replenished. Dishwasher emptied. Second cup of tea to hand.
Breakfast was … hours ago, actually. Um. Ah. Cottage cheese, grapes, toasted cheese bread. Lunch will be beanloaf and gravy over bread with a side salad.
Picked up yesterday’s mail today (yes, yes, but I don’t care to walk up to the street in the Stygian Darkness of 4:30pm, which is when my mail is typically delivered. I’m not expecting anything so precious that it can’t wait until tomorrow morning.) Progressive Insurance wants to sell me auto insurance, naturally, but they also want to sell me pet insurance, which — is a thought.
Those who have pet insurance — pros and cons?
ALL of the cats slept with me last night and who can blame them? It was cold.
Before that, we all watched the first episode of Magpie Murders, and enjoyed ourselves. Trooper is not impressed with Andreas, FWIW, and I’m a little uneasy, myself. I want to like him, but . . . . Firefly likes Mr. Pund, but then, she likes older men. Rook liked the magpies — family connections, I think.
I — am puzzled, but willing to continue to play. I did like the montage of the Writer at Work — very true to life, except Alan’s hand-drafts seemed much cleaner than any hand-draft has a right to be. The mysteries are interesting. I had been fearing a rewrite of Naked Once More, but we don’t seem to be going there.
Susan is — an editor. Who works for an agenting firm, and who obviously comes from money, because — that flat! And — she’s an editor. She reads client manuscripts curled up in a pretend comfy chair, and at the dining room table. In all of that flat there is no office.
Second episode penciled in for this evening.
Other than that, I have a List, and I’d better get to work.
What’s everybody doing today?
