Proof of Life

I regret to inform you that I am uninteresting.

Not permanently, I don’t think. Perhaps a brief intermission.

I sat down this afternoon intending to write something meaningful, or witty, and instead have been interrupted no fewer than fourteen times by small humans with unlimited demands, a second bout with Ernie, and a decorator with strong opinions and a tape measure. There are now staged “moments” on every counter surface to visualize what an idyllic life here could be. Shockingly, there was no mention of all the beige.

Somewhere in between all of this, I produced several thoughts of no consequence and one new opinion about high-waisted silhouettes to revisit another time.

Nothing profound to report—

just steady work, mild disruption, and proof of life.

Back soon.

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