A Monday of laundry started too late. Of converting the tripod from a high precision photographic tool to a clothing rack squeezed into a kitchen nook. Of spiders in organic lettuce and DVDs of work to ship out the door. Large creatures in my greens still put me off physically, but mentally I rest assured with Michael Pollan’s quip about how non-human beings won’t eat food that isn’t “healthy” (rats excluded). (my apologies Mr. Pollan if I’m twisting your words too far in this faint remembrance)
Whatever the case, a night of chore and surprising productivity outside the domestic duties. Of clean household obligations motivating excellence use of the scant non-rote time available.
The desk and chair combo continue to elude me. IKEA boasts exactly what I hunger for, but I am not alone in my deep want for a whited glass surface so angelic and pure. Oversold it was, and somewhere a supply chain monkey is kicking himself.