i am living through the longest part of today right now.

in approximately 20 minutes, i will be able to go upstairs, and get the final load of laundry out of the dryer. after carrying it downstairs and folding it, i will be free to do what i've been longing to do since i outfitted my most comfy bed with sparkling clean sheets, which is attempt to read myself to sleep.

reading myself to sleep isn't something that usually happens. when i start to read, i could stay up for hours, continuing to enjoy the book until something—say the end of the book—stops me. but tonight i am tired, and so these few remaining minutes standing between myself, my bed, and Rosamunde Pilcher's The Blue Bedroom seem like just so much madness.

apparently, when i'm tired, i'm not one for delayed gratification.

so, in the interest of moving forward, i am going to turn all the switches to off for the night, and perhaps, if i am lucky, by the time i get everything wound down, it will be the magic hour.

goodnight, my friends...


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