Right now outside is Cloudy and Damp. It's been raining more or less consistently all day. the window is open and Actually Cool Air is coming in--intoxicating combination of dead leaves and wet pavement. The sound of the dryer forms a sort of bass for the competing melodies of the outside (rain and dull traffic) and inside (currently the Braveheart film score). I'm reading Hardy for my Victorian novel class.
I haven't gotten out of my pajamas yet. It's nearly 3.
Today is just the sort of day it ought to be by rights.
There is nothing momentous, nothing profound, no mental troubles that have distilled to the point of reporting.
Life is in limbo. Most of it is, I think. It's easy to get sidetracked.
I'm glad the rain is here. I've been waiting for weeks.
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