Dreamt of repairing zip lines

Yesterday I started sewing in the second pocket on the sturdier pair of P’s
pj pants. Hallowed continues with extremely low density. I don’t know how
she makes ~werewolves low-stakes, but she does. I looked for the artwork I
did about gardening with grandpa but only found the studies in my old
sketchbook. I think the final must have been larger format, which means
it’s either in a portfolio somewhere or folded up in a binder.

At work I looked at the second round of fixes for the config package, and
whaddya know, it works! Good job, maintainer guy. B had sent out a draft of
his senior thesis, and I marked it up for him. I went to therapy and made a
connection between my general good mood and suspiciously good appetite and
the unusual levels of capsaicin I’ve been eating. Endorphins don’t joke.
Also, sunshine. Spent the rest of the afternoon trying a few ways that
didn’t work to fix the python version issues with wsgi.

Home, unpacked the new bowls, did the crossword with P, sent P off to class
and discovered the plates had arrived in the meantime. The plates fit great
in the dishwasher but the bowls don’t (though that’s no worse that our
current bowls so). Dinner, Flash, P came home ebullient— his students are
going to knock the client’s socks off. Decompressed with P, snack, sleep.