now it's said and done, say goodbye to the people we don't know

There was a point yesterday during which I despaired that Monday would never end. In fact, that point was more of a set, encompassing most moments of the day.

***

Just back from the Thanksgiving dinner event for my department at work. The fairy lights are on the trees around the building with the cafeteria and coffee shop, and leaving the noise drift behind for the cool air of the main courtyard feels like waking up.

***

Midnight is fast approaching, and all of the pasta dough is used up in ravioli-making. This is the time of day when my body seems to rally against all sense and I fear for ever again falling asleep.

I've been thinking of Thailand recently.

On the way home from work, I dashed into the hardware store, slipped between the merchandise pulled into the aisles, and grabbed a handful of picture hooks. When I got home I hung a couple of the large prints I ordered, rearranging a few other photos on the walls. Erik and I walked to the European market, where I couldn't resist the canned hummus I used to eat when I was poorest, living in London. Upon returning home, we swept leaves from our walkways, worried that a slippery accident was in the making. Then I set up the light table for my most tender potted plants, which are now arranged by height and receiving twelve hours of timed light. Finally, I made ravioli in time to the Shout Out Louds and Travis, while Erik played the new Mario videogame and drifted off to sleep. Hopefully the latter awaits me, as well.