My stomach has been broken for two days now. Eating nothing acidic (all the joy is acidic!), and nursing the shit out of it, I quietly mope at the thought of everyone else having a beer or baking a tray of (warm, gooey, delicious) cookies. And then, the second it's better, all I can think of is breaking it again in the form of coffee. Oh.

Instead, buckwheat crepes. And water. Like someone with a memory slightly better than a goldfish.

Looking out the window after waking up this morning, I could see the ground. We were away for the great thaw that was the new year. It's been months. I have mixed feelings about this. High hopes, but mixed feelings.