no sassafras, either

You don't find beech or pin oak in southern Arizona.

Struggling through my annual end-of-summer, left-the-beach, damn-it's-hot-here funk.

I've watched a ton of movies and some other stuff, some of it quite good, and some of it that makes me think that the critics who recommended it (yes, all 92% of them) must have been smoking crack when they wrote their reviews.

The most substantive thing I've written lately is an email, but maybe that will have primed my writing engine so that tomorrow I can actually write something. Maybe I will, or maybe I'll go to the matinee of "Hairspray."

Flooring install starts Monday, painting the week after -- consequently, there is a ton of work that must be done around here, moving furniture around and out of the way. Not to worry, I tell DH: I have a plan. Will the plan survive contact with reality? Stay tuned.

On a positive note, I passed my eye exam today with flying colors, as usual.

There's nothing wrong. I'm just spoiled and lazy. (I could say I'm busy, but that would be a complete lie, and an easy one, since people are so quick to believe that a mother-of-three must be constantly running around and cleaning the house and all that -- but I'm not, so I won't say I am. What I am is insufficiently motivated, even as a good half-dozen projects are in constant circulation inside my head. Will they ever get done? God only knows.)