more is less
It’s a bad sign when going to bed earlier actually makes you feel worse in the morning. I don’t know whether it’s been the aches in my floating ribs, the wedding to-do lists I’ve been writing in my sleep (and then in a new Moleskine notebook I just bought for the purpose), or what, but I’ve been (metaphorically) hearing the high-pitched squeal of slipping belts in my head all week long, and sleeping really badly.
I didn’t particularly want to come down to Boston this week – the band didn’t get together, and it was a short week at work – though I managed to get still more stuff at Paper Source. Dangerous store, since it’s very easy to justify buying things “because we’ll use them later, even after the wedding.” Paper for programs. A Xyron adhesive machine for adhering Thing A to Thing B. Rubber stamps. Embossing powder. (Which sounds like a Harry Potter plot device.)
Now it’s Friday afternoon, and the office is about to let out early. I’m going to stick around and get some work done in the quiet, since the traffic heading north to NH is going to blow no matter when I leave. At least I’ll get something accomplished.