Lazy, lazy day. The apartment was clean until I was left in it by myself. Now the dishes are piled high again, MY dishes, and I know the difference. My papers are everywhere and my shoes are everywhere and I'm enjoying being by myself. My marking is not done and I don't care. My brain is recovering from the frontal assault that has been launched at it these past few months. So the cat and I lounged around doing nothing slowly. Tomorrow, I will clean my room, sort out my accounts and deal with the recycling or rather the mound of papers that has accumulated in our hall mixed in with boxes and cans. I dread having to carry it down the stairs, knowing that I will leave a trail behind me, walking down the narrow path tramped out in the snow and then fighting the papers into whichever blue bin is not currently overflowing. I predict several trips and then the annoyance of discovering that I left some unseen bits in the apartment which will then have to be taken down at a later date.

I know that before I leave I will accomplish nothing of what I wish to get done.

To Be Done (but won't)

• clean my room
• vacuum the hall
• clean out the fridge
• and the freezer
• take out the recycling
• pack
• do nothing

I predict doing nothing gets done and nothing else. Well maybe packing . . . but not well. but I must, must finish my marking . . . .