Un Ending

What is UP with Adam and Cello? I don't recognize us anymore.

Tonight we'll host our THIRD consecutive Saturday dinner party. This, in a week stuffed with lunch and coffee dates. Could all this socializing be a form of avoidance? I mailed off my last post-doc application yesterday (Yay!), but have yet to begin revising the manuscript that's due in four weeks. (Eep.) After tonight, I really, really must knuckle down and get back in a writing groove. Yeah, especially since we'll waste four or five (enjoyable) hours at a friend's Oscar party tomorrow night.

Time wasted. Time unlaced it. Time tasted. Time well spent.

Tomorrow, I want to remember to record here why Thursday is Fave Day and how G.(remember G.?) found Bambi in our back yard. I also want to write about a the astute professor Sandy, my orange skin, and a kidney-shaped desk. (Those are three different stories, by the way. But it would be interesting to try to combine them.)

For now, I'm off to brave the Saturday traffic. And—(unending, it falls), the snow, the snow, the snow.