Is Sunday the last day of the week or the first? Please discuss, then we'll break out into groups according to who believes what. To decide the matter definitively. Then we'll pelt each other with over-ripe fruits until one group emerges victorious. Why? Because I'm simple, that's why. And easily entertained by the flinging of produce.

Wanna be on my team?

HINT: When I'm bored I sit with a handful of change and practice flicking it – coin by coin – into the change jar. It has approximately a two-inch diameter opening, and I have a fairly good average. You may want to join my group (last day, if you're wondering).

But anyway, not a whole lot to complain of today – SHOCK TO SYSTEM! MAJOR ORGANS IN DANGER OF SHUTTING DOWN! I take that back, there's a lot I legitimately could complain about, but instead I'm in a rare mood in which I'm pretending to be unaware of it. Yesterday my doctor – did I mention I love her? – gave me 60 feel-good minutes' worth of reasons life doesn't suck. Always a good way to start the weekend, getting good advice from a degreed professional. Not that it takes away one's problems. It just makes them a little easier to deal with for a while.

Saturday afternoon the writers' group workshop at my library turned out to be fun and even productive. Never mind THE REST OF YOU WHO SIGNED UP AND DIDN'T COME. No guilt, of course. Claire and I made do, thankyouverymuch, and we have a partly-finished collaborative story to show for it. Nyah, nyah.

Also got some sorely needed rain this weekend, bonus to the hosta plants I got in the ground last weekend. The ones I've been too lazy to water I couldn't water, because my knee hurt too much. You know, from that surgery I had, what, six weeks ago now? But trust me, it's still not back to 100 %. And no, I'm sure it's not because I blew off physical therapy.

So I have to work Sunday. Meh. It's only a four-hour gig, and nets me time and a half. If I were home I'd only be flicking change at a jar, anyway. That, or making up excuses not to clean something, do laundry or grocery shop. Working is, ironically, much less work.

Reading? God, yes. I already reviewed the book on Cotton Mather and smallpox, the one that jumped my reading queue, pushing all other books aside. It was a page-turner. And no, I'm not kidding. I was so riveted I finished it in a sitting. It totally changed my view of the man I considered Satan's minion for having been instrumental in putting suspected witches to death. But you can read the review right below this post to find out more, so why repeat myself?

So much else in progress. You don't want to hear about all of it.

And that's pretty much my weekend. You're all caught up to real time since I'm finishing this up on Sunday. Still have a burning need to what's going on in my ADD-addled brain (and who doesn't)? Check out my tweets. I'm not as addicted as some, but I pop up there on a fairly regular… actually, occasional basis, depending on how strung out on ether I happen to be at the time.

Catch y'all later. Have a good.