I didn’t sleep too great last night. Which is weird, because you’d think after thirty-something years of nightly practice, I’d have gotten the hang of it.
It felt very much like a Monday from the get-go, a feeling that hasn’t let up all day. I’m working from home tomorrow, which is good, because the air conditioner downstairs is busted and somebody’s coming to (hopefully) repair it. I can also keep an eye on the dog, who usually spends his days in the kitchen, and make sure he doesn’t overheat.
Right now, though, I’m just enjoying the fact that the air conditioner in my bedroom is not busted. I grow less enamored of summer with each sweaty day.