it's tomorrow now

Yup. Sunday, the 22nd. New York Times Sunday, when I feel guilt-free, almost, about spending so much time with something not immediately productive—only in my mind, no use to anyone but me.

Matt is coming for a swim and dinner today, so I will be busy, and sore. At least I’m not coughing my guts out;. I’ m doing my best—and my best is none too good.

Anon, anon.