Yesterday was an off day. Off, off, off. It was the sort of day when, if I'd tried to document it at the time, this writing would have been jam-packed with typos. It started with bad hair, moved on to a lunch that didn't sit well, and one cringe-worthy moment in History of Jazz followed by two hours spent trying in vain to keep my damned mouth shut and focus. Alas, Miles Davis remains a mystery.
Hopefully today will be an improvement. We have O's tickets (they're playing Cleveland tonight), and I see no noticable typos, so that's promising.
overgrown garden
what happens when clutter escapes to the outdoors
alisonf at gmail dot com