I regret to inform you all that yesterday and today have been two of the most disgustingly unproductive days of my life. I currently have no real need to study, and I am waiting.... waiting... waiting... on 1984 to arrive at the library! And to make matters worse, even if it comes tomorrow, I can't pick it up until Tuesday because of the library's unbelievably inhumane hours. It's nearly as though they're trying to discourage readers. In all seriousness, I often think that. (Please, dears, if you would like to join in and read with me, I would love that. I encourage you to send me a comment - just click at the words at the bottom of the post - and let me know that you would like to be a part of it, and I will make up a bit of a reading plan so that I don't give spoilers away, and vice versa.)
Anyway, my dog has benefieted from my inactivity. She got a shampoo and blow-dry, followed by a root-stimulation comb through and then a teasing of the hair, after which she got a style package and chose to go (however boldly) for the fresh, youthful look. She is now a new woman. Glad she feels that way. While everyone is walking by humming "I belive in miracles - you sexy thing" to my dog, I am feeling especially pointless. (I'll see if I can share a picture with you, but for now it so happens that the camera is in someone else's handbag.) I think my overall, and yet immature, conclusion on life is that if I was not a reading person, I would probably be a dying person. Here I am - sitting on my bed, drinking a cup of tea, singing "splish splash I was taking a bath" for absolutely no reason, being horribly sarcastic, because I'm bored. That always happens to me when I'm bored. Sarcasm.
Not to sound jealous of my dog, but she certainly has life covered, and thanks to me, a great hair cut.