Whoops, I think I'm broken

[desperance]

I should've been in town two hours ago, maybe three. Proofreading my little socks off. But I didn't go when I should've gone, and I still haven't, and I'm starting to think maybe that I won't. Maybe I'll stay home and write. Maybe I'll stay home and read. An hour back, I sat down to put my boots on, essential prerequisite manoeuvre to the going-out meme - and picked up a book instead. And then Barry jumped into my lap and settled down for a snuggle, and that's still so rare an event, I am inclined actively to encourage the notion of my lap being a good place for snoozing. So I stayed. And the way I feel right now, I might even go back for second helpings, if available. I like reading, and I like making my cat happy. Two out of two ain't bad.

Also, my brain is melting. It's never been good for much, but it has always been a ferociously good speller. These days, I keep having to check words that I have known all my life how to spell. And at least I don't have to look this one up, but all this year, every time I've typed 'stayed' I hesitate, because some fraction of my mind wants to have typed 'staid' instead.