Hell, no, I’m not talking about my menses. Like anyone would care about that.
Jim will arrive tomorrow for a part-fun/part-work five days. This has, of course, sent everyone at The Compound into a cleaning frenzy. It’s not that we normally live in squalor. It’s just that we want everything to be fresh and sparkly for the people we love.
But if they came more often, we’d have to maintain things better around here. Which is, I think, a GREAT argument for our out-of-town friends to get their butts here.
Anyway, things are clean. The yard looks good. The pantry is STOCKED BEYOND ALL REASON. Because planning a novel is hard work that requires plenty of snacks.