Unless cleaning the kitchen, and paying for my registration for the conference I posted about earlier counts, I’ve been singularly unproductive today, writing a little, reading a lot, cuddling Fuzzy and the dogs, and catching up on sleep.

We did manage to leave the house (once the car was returned to us with working A/C – a MUST in this climate (it cost $1620 to repair.)) for a lovely dinner at Hanasho where I managed not to drip soy sauce into my cleavage – barely.

I’m caught up on work. Laundry day is usually Sunday. The housecleaner will deal with vacuuming and such. But one task I still haven’t managed is to do the taxes – I who usually do them on February first, cannot seem to drag myself up to my office (the computer where TurboTax lives) and actually plug in numbers.

It’s not so much that I think we’re going to owe, because even as a full-time 1099’d writer I’m showing a loss on paper, as that I hate my current array of office furniture so much that my office doesn’t feel welcoming or pleasant, it feels like a prison.

I hate that feeling.

And so, here I sit, blogging and chattering via email about a script proposal, instead of doing anything remotely useful.

Oh, the laziness of me.