Brain Dead

Friday has arrived, deadline day. Less frantic than some weeks, I mailed off my last story about 1:00 this morning. Phew.

This is the pond at Blue Rock Station. So many beautiful places around here. It was intended to be part of a formal English garden, but it won't hold more water than your average wetland. The owners were disappointed, but I still think it's beautiful and it attracks cranes.

I honestly have no idea what I need to do today. I've consulted the day planner, my essential guide and record keeper. It does have writing on today's date, so I assume I'm supposed to be somewhere doing something... but it's not registering. Brain dead.

Where I'd like to be is in a luxurious tree house. Today would be a great day to lounge on silk and velvet pillows, with the Jeffery Deaver book I'm halfway through, a little Annie Lennox music in the background, and a box of See's candy close at hand. A gentle breeze with just a hint of fall in it blowing through the windows... that would be a day.