I worked from home today, which was lovely because of the lack of commute even if I felt rather slothful. I laid in bed much later than planned rather than getting up and writing, and then I wasn't a perfect paragon of productivity, but I'm trying to get better about celebrating what I have achieved rather than bemoaning what I haven't. Yes, you've heard that before, and yes, I'm going to try again even though it seems to go completely against my protestant work ethic. And at least I'm up to date on the royal visit to New Zealand, so that's a big win.
I wrapped up work for the time being around five and hung out with Terry, who was home earlier than usual. Then I abandoned her and went to Des Amis, where a steak (which was not the healthier chicken salad I'd planned to have) and some time writing in my notebook helped to restore me. Then I came home, painted my nails, and worked on day job stuff for the last hour. And now I must go to sleep and hope that Alyssa's workout tomorrow is lovely and not murderous. Goodnight!
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