Does blogging about a highly unproductive day make it any more productive? My unproductivity thereby giving me something to say? Hmmm, perhaps not. After a lovely brunch at Johnny D’s with Shannon (where else can you get your cheese grits while listening to a bass/guitar duet playing?) and an interesting conversation with the next table about a Dungeons and Dragons event (or something) in Seattle (he had a very elaborate spell book with him that I was somewhat intrigued by), it was off to the fabric store in the mud and snow and mush (white snow on top of black snow doesn’t even make gray snow. It goes straight to gross), where I was instantly overwhelmed by how much fabric there is to choose from and I spent a while picking the pieces for my class projects. And then? Why straight to nap time for me. Because apparently fabric shopping and brunch are incredibly taxing chores. Does anyone else make really detailed to-do lists for their weekends? And then end up using them for scraps of paper because they never get done? Sigh. So now that I’ve recorded it, has my day had worth? Purpose? Yeah, that’s what I thought.
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