... as my late father used to say, before revealing grammatical niceties (and you wondered where I got it from).
Can you believe today is the last day of my 4-week sabbatical??
Oh, where did the time go...
I lost some to the house painting, and some to disaster knitting projects.
There were a couple of other days when I was just wiped out and couldn't think creatively at all, which I blew on napping and sorting photographs.
But I did have two weeks of 10-hour days of intense productivity, and I met three deadlines, and I think the decision to watch a whole whack of 1930s and 40s Hollywood movies wasn't totally self-indulgent. It's the first opportunity I've ever had to watch a whole bunch back to back without commercials, all grouped by some sort of theme or spotlighting a particular actor or series, and that much immersion really teaches you how to get at the gut of a story.
(or, um, how not to.)
And today is the last day, and I haven't spent a single one of them on writing... and I won't spend today that way either, because I'm hoping to meet a friend instead.
A whole month of productive procrastination. Proud of me?
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