So around 2 a.m. my husband wakes me up to tell me that the toilet handle broke, and he had to turn off the water to the upstairs toilet. Of course, I had trouble falling back asleep, Gentle Reader, worrying this would be a Big Fix. I woke this morning to a dog shaking her head violently and another one’s wet face and I was so confused.
We think Zoe just got water in her ears, but we’re monitoring the situation. Moxie was face-deep in the rain, so no surprises there. And I drove to Lowe’s for its open to get a new lever for the toilet.
NO ONE WAS WEARING MASKS. Not the employees, not the shoppers, no one.
And everyone looked at me like I was crazy in my mask.
But Reader, we fixed the toilet (huzzah!) and now I’m waiting for my InstaCart order to come this morning.
I came to terms with some things re: my sabbatical, and made some decisions about what I COULD get done versus what I PLANNED to get done. I think I am still on track for December to finish the MS, but I need to get moving, seriously, on this chapter I’m stuck on. That’s the plan for this week: write, even if it’s painful. Even if it’s pulling teeth.
The Postmodern Bluestocking 