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.
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.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!