Another July 4th, another festival of mosquito bites. And alas, the fallacy/fantasy that the bloodsucking didn't really start until dusk was crashed. Now that I am a country girl, I will have to revisit alternative methods of mosquito defense.
I was just too tired and stupified to write yesterday. I am only marginally more conscious at this particular moment. I lurch toward some equilibrium and cognizance of where I am and perhaps get a glimpse of where to head. As I woke up about 5, I think I can safely hit the sheets again. I have to get a move on the myriad of moving and sorting that still needs to occur.
I also have to get cracking on the 300 pages of Proust I need to read by July 19th.
One way or another, this darkness got to give.
Later that same day.
Okay, this is how tired I am. I thought I sent this out this morning. Oh well. I did get in some good napping and I am feeling a bit better physically, but there's a ways to go.