Cold March nights.

It's about time for the yearly rug-cleaning. There's going to be a lot of tidying and squaring away of things before I can even think about moving the chairs themselves, much less the rug beneath them. There's books to give away as gifts and books to donate to library sales inventory. There's a couple bottles of wine just hanging out. There's clothes yet to be put away from last week's laundry and other clothes to be donated to a fabric recycling program. There's some pens to test and see if the ink's still good. There's a lot of stuff around.

It'll be nice to put on a podcast or some showtunes and just tidy up to that. I've been having a pretty low day - low series of days, really - and I need to talk about them. I also probably need to apologize to my dad for how things went today. Crummy isn't a word that gets used much outside of post-1992 children's and YA novels, but it's a pretty apt word for how I was feeling.