It snowed Sunday. It was cold yesterday. It was a lot colder this morning.

It's supposed to be warmer tomorrow.

I drank some coffee.

I watched an episode of OaT last night in preparation for the upcoming editing marathon. I verified that the first ten pages of the story sound reasonably in-character. I already knew that.

Now I'm drinking some hot tea.

Buehler has been out of town. Bossyboots has been behaving himself. At least, he's been leaving me alone for the most part, including ignoring about 30% of the e-mails I send him.

Moe and Curly haven't been any more annoying than developers normally are. (Turns out that some of Hell's Own Software problems are "by design." Someone in design hates our users.)

I am eating an apple.

At long last, progress is lurching along on the DarkGlass study. Not major progress, but definite signs of life.

Some cheese, too.

Extension 17 showed up stoned for work this morning, but I think I'm the only one who noticed.

I don't have anything to say today, can you tell?

I don't like winter. Or, rather, I don't mind winter, but I don't like that it's already dark when I get off work in the evenings. I always have many things I could or should do, after work, and most of them sound like a lot more fun in the daytime than they do in the reality of a cold, dark evening.

Now I am having baked chicken with teriyaki sauce.

I need a stand for the new printer, one with two shelves so I can hook the old, color printer back up to our PC at home, too. I was going to stop off by the office supply store after work yesterday, but it was cold and gross, so I went home and curled up.

I tell myself I'll do it tonight...but by the time I get off work it will be cold and dark and then I'll pretend I have to hurry home to get my laundry done and the bathroom cleaned but when I get there, I won't do those things. I'll just curl up.

The urge to spend the winter hibernating is a strong one. I think it's the cycle of nature. My father always said it was bone-deep laziness.

Watermelon, now. Delicious, but cold.

I should never have spent all of those lovely, warm, sunny Sundays sitting (so alliterative) home writing, should I? I knew I'd regret it one day. I just didn't think it would be this soon.

Why didn't I pack any chocolate in my lunch?