It is Saturday night and I sit here rewatching a show that I was too young to understand the first time around. It involves a creek. I say no more.
Having officially entered 9 to 5 hood this week, I welcome doing little. The morning was spent sipping coffee with Jon, finding more nonfiction on the American Revolution--my new favorite obsession-- and buying a tiny bunch of wildflowers from the farmers market. Keats discovered he is able to jump on the kitchen counter which is not at all surprising but rather disheartening as it was the last place to put any valuable object he might get his paws on. Alas, he is unstopable.
The new job is something I have not made my mind up about yet but it doesn't exactly look promising. We will see. My mantra is 18 months. 18 months and then we will be far, far away. Waiting and waiting.
