This morning I cleaned one of the bathrooms and washed the dog's butt. (Certain bodily functions are not optimally performed in leaf piles as tall as one's butt or taller. In case you were wondering.) Ohhhh, the glamorous life of an artiste. I have also read bits of the Poetic Edda and Hellspark and the Oct/Nov F&SF, made some book notes, cleaned the strawberries, tried to get the restless dog to settle down, washed the knives (they can't go in the dishwasher), tried calling CJ to see if he has supper plans for his birthday (tonight), written e-mail to three separate people called David and a couple of people not called David, finished going through the photos from our London trip (finally), sorted the laundry, put away the clean dishes, sent out a short story and figured out where to send another, talked to timprov about life and my novel projects, read lj, and, mostly happily, got Barenaked Ladies tickets for myself and timprov for December.
It cannot possibly be only 1:00. I am ready for about 4:30.