Too much caffeine? Maybe.

I came in and buckled down to do some work today. And I have, too. None of it is anything that was on my Tasks list, but if any of that had interested me, I'd have done it already, so that's okay.

I'm learning to do new things today, which is something I really enjoy, so that's okay, too.

It's almost lunch time. Fish paste sandwiches and leftovers for lunch today.

(Or fresh, wild-caught, smoked salmon salad, and cherry-topped cheesecake, depending on how you want to look at it.)

I'm looking forward to the weekend. One Thanksgiving Tradition at my house (or at least something I'd like to make an annual tradition, if not for the perpetually reoccurring diet) is the making of gingerbread houses.

This weekend is Buy Ingredients Weekend. If you take a ten-dollar bill to the Dollar Store, you can buy an astonishing array of ingredients, from cans of frosting (used for construction and to make "snow") and decorative candies from which fences, sidewalks, doors, and windows can be constructed. If you take two ten-dollar bills, you can buy enough stuff to make two or three gingerbread houses and still have enough candy leftover to make yourself really sick.

Not that I do that, of course. I'm an adult. Adults do not gorge themselves on sugar just because it's there.

(At least, they don't admit to it.)

Having purchased a brand new phone recently, I now have digital picture capabilities! Expect to have pictures inflicted upon you at some point. (If my gingerbread house stands up long enough to be photographed, that is. Some of my creations in years past have already been succumbing to the pressure of gravity by the time I was placing the last chocolate flagstone out front.)

Anyhow. Call me childish, but I like making gingerbread houses and I'm looking forward to it.

I'm making the R.C. do it, as well. Her idea of "fun" on Thanksgiving Weekend had to do with going shopping but I scoff at the idea of being trampled underfoot (or wheel) in a mall crammed wall-to-wall with already-frantic holiday shoppers and women using baby strollers as battering rams to force their way through the crowds.

(And the men. What's up with that? Cherry Creek Mall here in town has a sort of lounging area with a big-screen television so men can watch, one presumes, sporting events while their wives/girlfriends/SOs/whatever shop.

I mean, what the heck is up with that? Why are they even in the mall if they don't want to shop? Why would a woman force a man to go to the mall if he didn't want to be there? I assume that's why the men are there, instead of lounging at home in the comfort of their living rooms?

When you wonder why I find the idea of marriage uninviting, remember that many of the institution's time-honored traditions mystify and repel me.)

(Or maybe I've just loved too much in the past.)