Batteries, Charging Of

No emails answered to speak of, but other types of rest were committed (including a completely necessary, sanity-restoring massage from Magic Hands Dan; viewing of some season three Buffy; and reading a serendipitously discovered, BEA-obtained ARC of Cynthia Leitich Smith’s fabulous Tantalize despite the taunting of a freelance review assignment*). Anyway, I either have a bit of cold or allergies and not doing much was achieved. Although I am regretful not to have seen the latest le masterpiece de Shyamalan yet.

Back to a regularish posting schedule this week. I’d feel more guilty about the hooky if it weren’t so brain-frying hot** and so summer. Isn’t this what summer is for***? Emma the Dog thinks so. (Hemingway the cat = likes catnip; prefers spring and fall when the window screens are accessible and Al Gore is happy(ier).)

*There’s plenty of time for that!

**It’s a fucking egg, not a brain, Bill, we know.

***I mean, besides watching vast amounts of questionable reality television — like, say, Work Out! (For which I blame YOU!!!)

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