Definitely a Monday.

I left the house significantly earlier than I sometimes do, and without my knitting. Got maybe a mile from home to discover that the crossbars were down on one of the roads I take. Sat there for several minutes until enough people moved out of the backup that I could turn right into a parking lot and make my way to another southbound street.

Same problem.

So I whipped around and took what we laughingly call Central Expressway, which this morning lived up to its name. I made it to my desk with a minute to spare.

I didn't have quite enough work to keep busy (but it was nice taking care of a couple of little things that had been languishing). Sent out a "will type for food" email and got a response from the office manager, who was working remotely. She had a nice stack of filing. One of the authorized people let me into her office, and I knocked that out before lunch.

I got all of my mail read and worked. I closed a case. I also read the Harlot, and Mason Dixon, and Wendy Knits.

I've been significantly more fruitful since coming home. Stopped at the grocery store for a bit of produce, baked three of the tiny mushroom turnovers from Trader Joe's and enjoyed them with a huge salad. When that was done, I cooked up a salmon burger and squeezed half of a small lemon all over it. So. Good.

I knew I needed the protein, because as soon as I'd logged off my computer at work, my stomach started hollering for another steak like the one I enjoyed on Saturday. My debit card thought that was pretty funny. I have sufficient funds to see me through until next payday, but I can't justify using my disposable income for a sit down dinner at a real restaurant.

I've started a load of darks, and eaten a good dinner, and read about half of the March issue of the Ensign, and written my visiting teaching letter, and read an article on lds.org. I am now going to put that load into the dryer, slice some strawberries into a bowl with some Fage and Nutella, and bliss out.