Wal-mart is across town. And I don't do Wal-mart if I can help it. Actually haven't been since I've been here.
Fred Meyer is slightly less scary, but the one down the street is way bigger than the one I usually go to.
Guess I just read. Want to write and yet don't want to. For one thing, I spent a good portion of the weekend rewriting the first two chapters of my story, and then realized there's a way it could work well as originally written.
I haven't done any writing since November and I'm starting to feel the lack. There's just so many things I want to do... or need to do, like wash dishes... and so little time. Argh.