You know you’re too busy when having the flu is the best thing ever. Tuesday our new housemate (did I mention we moved?) had it, and by last night both Brian and I were laid out on the couch, too weak do do anything but sip rootbeer and watch Season 3 of Buffy (luckily, new housemate, in addition to being plague-ridden, has an excellent collection of DVDs).

So yeah. Slept from 1 til five today. Had crazy dreams, where main street Brattleboro was at the end of Haight St., and I was getting fitted for an much too small pair of shoes (were they denimn? Ew). Woke up to a cat fight, and to Hope’s dog at the foot of my bed, mouth full of toys, wanting to wrassle.

Oh, my writing muscles are rusty.