I don't know where my compulsion to confess things comes from, but because I like to explain myself, essentially, I've been playing blog hookey because finally, the weather seemed sorted this past week. It was like spring decided to be itself for a little while, instead of doing impressions of other seasons like an uptight dinner companion who has to be "on" ("Okay, weather, I've seen you do "winter" and I've seen you do "summer"--now just...you do you!"). So I've actually gotten out of doors a bit, tending to my garden literally and figuratively, and managed to exchange my winter prison pallor for a bronzy glow.
I regret nothing.
But now that it's going to be pissing down rain all weekend, I think I'll try to remember how this blogging thing works, because give me another week of fucking off, and I'll likely forget how.