Complaints

[rejectomorph]

Sometimes, using the Internet is as fast, easy and productive as swimming through an ocean of tar, looking for a licorice whip. No wonder Sluggo is so reluctant to use it!

Outside is nicer. Fog and mist have hung about most of the night. The wind has stilled, and there is only the ever-slower dripping from the trees to break the silence. I like the fogs, but I'm beginning to miss the moon.

I've decided that today will be nice. I'm giving it no choice.