It may define fall

Last weekend was very rainy. When I woke up on Sunday morning, threw clothes on and went out walking. I was in a walking mood. Stepping out into the hallway of my apartment, I found this, a wet leaf plastered to the window.

It defines fall.

Since last week, I've learned that doing everything and nothing are many times the same thing. I've also learned that making a list of tasks, then accomplishing everything on that list, really makes me feel good about life. Who knew that these endless spritual and existential crises I've been plagued with for the past ten or so years could have been solved by penciling lines through a few items on a crumpled sheet of paper?

I've played two games of scrabble online, and the on the second try I did significantly better than on the first. Though I was playing a master, (you all know who), the floor was mopped with me, but I really didn't care all that much, because I could see some personal improvement.

So, to get you up to speed with today, I'll ask a question: what do you do when you drop your toothbrush in the toilet? It's a question I hope no one has to answer, because I found myself faced with it first thing this morning. The panic and despair I experienced, I would wish it on no one. It was horrible.

And no, things have not really picked up here at all. Though it's for a lot of reasons, I think they all pretty much fall under this single explanation (or, if you're cynical, I guess you could call it an excuse): I feel like my time would be better spent learning. I hope that's OK.

But oh, I have to go. I'm seeing a show tonight, which has promise of being quite good, definitely. I can't remember the last time I consciously went out to see music. It's been a while.