A long vacation from writing. We've had an uninterupted stream of house guests for the past couple of weeks that have left the place a wreck and myself exhausted. It was fun while it lasted, but I seem to have rededicated myself to agressive procrastination. I suppose that's why I'm writing this instead of my dissertation.

Procrastination spreads to other areas too. The weeds are taking over the yard. I'm hoping the explosion of flowers will distract anyone who cares to look from noticing. I'm using the parade of mosquitoes and other unsavory wildlife as well as the steamy, tropical weather as an excuse to put it off even longer.

It's a day for ice cold drinks on the veranda (should you happen to have a veranda) and for hammocks. Alas, I have none of the above, so the CD playlist has been adjusted accordingly to suit my current locale in my subterranean lair. Today's offerings: Fountains of Wayne and Francine.

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