Labeled

We try to fight them off, but ever so often a label is a delight and you want to slap it on everything. Like this
monogram my friend Mary created for the FRSC. I turned it into sticker. Just in case.

In other non-related news, but somewhat related since it impacts my ability to plan the next supper club, I spent a good portion of this week upset that I may be stagnating, losing my spark, getting dull. My brain was a clump of useless gray matter. My evenings were spent watching Netflix. Let's not even talk about the productive worker I wasn't at my job. Oh, Monotony! How did you sneak up and sabotage me so thoroughly?

Here's something everyone should try as the first step to getting out of M.'s clutches. Sleep. Sleep a lot. Go to bed when the old people do for a couple days. Turn off your phone, veg out on your shows, don't feel bad about all the stuff you really ought to be doing. Embrace the downward slide you fear! But let it all lead you to a good night's sleep. Or two or three. So simple. If you don't think I know what I'm talking about, let the bard reinforce my statements:

Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast,-

You'll need to ignore the quote is from Macbeth as he and his lady wrestle with paranoia over their dire deeds. That might make it unsettling vs. soothing.

I must close now because my brain is on fire with all the projects I want to attend to. And thus she slays her slothful foe. The end.