Finally, a weekend all for me.

The air conditioner is out of the window, so I can sit here at my desk and glance idly to the left and see something other than that plastic ivory box. My neighbor across the street still has a bongo in his window, a bookcase against the far wall, and a similar desk that offers a view of him sitting, arms stretched forward to a keyboard out of view. Hello again, neighbor.

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So tired last night I fell asleep sometime around 8 pm. I hadn't even brushed my teeth, but woke up just before nine, feeling as if I'd been under water for hours, to do so. I woke at my usual 5:30 but managed to stay in bed, dozing mostly, until 8. Heaven. I might have lasted longer, but a cement mixer pulled up to a building on the block at about that time to deposit materials to fix a sidewalk. You have to love living in the city.

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I want an empty brain for the next few days. I'm cleaning the dust from my apartment, so don't mind it accumulating in my head. Although, I missed a group of short story contest deadlines last week and there are others coming up for October, so I would like to get some "work" done. A few minor edits, but mostly figuring out which story to send where from the pack of "finished" pieces in my repertoire.

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Oh, the joy of a wide open window where the air conditioner was. Just an hour after it left, I'm assaulted again with the smell of burnt sugar. My mother had a very smart theory - the bakery isn't burning something every midday, but cleaning their ovens from the morning's baking. Yes, the smell of an oven cleaning is easily confused with something burning, and I think now you can appreciate how vile it is.

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I am coming down with a cold. Woke up with swollen glands and the sniffles. Good weekend to stay inside and cuddle up with my writing and a book.