Today I cleaned my office, so I am no longer in danger of being cast on the television show, Hoarders.
I’ve been working extra hours because other people at work are on vacation. I’m trying not to be bitter about this because I like my job and co-workers so much. But still.
I just turned on the heat so it won’t go below 65 degrees in the house tonight. Turning on the heat in Southern California seems like a serious infraction but my husband doesn’t want the children to have frozen toes, so fine. The heat is on and it smells kind of burnt since it hasn’t been on in a long time.
I finished reading This Life Is in Your Hands: One Dream, Sixty Acres, and a Family Undone which I thoroughly enjoyed. Now I am unmoored, unable to decide what to read next though I am surrounded by stacks of promising books.
My husband keeps urging me to write the Christmas letter. I told him I bought stamps which I feel is a fine and timely contribution toward the Christmas letter goal. Baby steps.
But say, aren’t those fireworks captured by my iPhone pretty?
See? I have nothing to say, really.