far too much writing, far too many photos

I am having one of those mornings where — so far, at any rate — I have been unable to drag myself to full consciousness. Forcing me to toss down two cups of high-test in an attempt to get my sorry (though adorable) butt into gear — a rarity, as more than one fully-caffeinated cup tends to get me rocking back and forth in my seat, autistic-like. This morning’s infusions have hardly shown up on my nervous system’s radar screen.

Patience. Tranquility. Blahblahblah.

The upside: the demands of the day don’t require more of me than:

a) bringing some recycling to one of the neighborhood drop-off points (Done.)
b) picking up a paper (Done.)
c) picking up some groceries (Done.)
d) picking up new pair black fishnet stockings (sorry, that was from the to-do list of a character in an Almodóvar film I saw yesterday.)
d) doing a bit of writing (You’re reading it.)
e) doing some schoolwork (er… soon… right after I finish this.) (no, really.)

And a handful of other items. Nothing earthshaking, nothing that should challenge my basic motor functions too strenuously.

Updates will follow as warranted.

Madrid, te quiero.

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