Reset the alarm four times and still haven't made it out of my pajamas yet. So far, Hump Day is not looking nearly as invigorating as it sounds. Bills need to be paid, so it's all "off to work I go" as I shuffle the ten feet or so through my tiny apartment over to my desk. I have a headache but at least I work from home and don't need to venture out into what has apparently mutated from an early morning thunderstorm into a disheartening display of snow. My red Converse weep for the eventual return of warmer weather and early morning walks. Let the imbibing of copious amounts of caffeine begin.
A song of singitude: Paul Young "Every Time You Go".