I came home late last night with a killer headache so I had ice cream and wine for dinner.
We tried to watch a movie but it was boring so I went up to the attic and listened to records and considered how iTunes has taken the fun and sound quality out of music for future generations.
It was hot indoors—especially in the attic—so I kept unsuccessfully adjusting the thermostat until I realized the heat of the day had disappeared and it was beautiful outside. I promptly went around the house opening all the windows.
Halfway through my private record party I started to feel sleepy so I stole a pillow from the couch. I didn’t use the pillow, but the dog did so everyone was basically happy.
When I finally crawled into bed, I began thinking about how little I write these days beyond mediocre advertising and I decided mediocre is good enough for me. All of the sudden I really wanted more ice cream.