Toronto was awesome. Short, but satisfying nonetheless. I'll share more about it but this is just a pop-in to mention that upon returning I discovered it'll be another few days with my face firmly pressed to the grindstone at work before I'll surface with anything resembling full health, energy, and motivation to write.
This evening I'm taking some time to myself to just do ... pretty much nothing actually, other than eat healthy food, listen to music, do a little laundry, and tidy up a few bits and bobs. Nothing significant, but enough to keep me relaxed and provide me with the much needed impression that I'm progressing at something. Alone time is what I want, and thankfully it's what I've gotten. It'd be nicer with a glass of wine, but I've committed to detoxing myself for a month before all the Saint Nick and Noël ridiculousness begins to press down upon us so tant pis for me. Who's fun idea was that anyways? Oh yeah, mine. I'll tell you more about they psychotic list of things I'm supposed to be doing a bit later. Today has been a catastrophic water-drinking failure. As in, zero mL of water. Catching up will certainly mean interrupted sleep tonight but I suppose I'll try.
In the meantime, try not to let November swallow you. It's a tricky month that way.