Today.

Torrential downpour. The rain is loud enough on the windows and eaves that it drowns out the sound of thunder behind it. I can barely see out the windows, though the sky seems to be white instead of the usual storm-cloud-grey.

At 2:30 I changed out of my jeans and t-shirt and into my jammas. I’ll have to change back when it’s time to walk the dogs, of course, but it feels like the sort of afternoon where one should be comfortable and appreciative of that comfort. Jammas, it is. Feet up on the sofa. Books surrounding me. Pen and paper handy.

All that’s missing from this ideal is a warm blanket and my even-warmer husband. I am already struggling to stay awake, so it’s probably good not to be snugged under my duvet. Consciousness could elude me for hours.