So, I have a piano lesson scheduled for Wednesday night at Dr. G's house, but I haven't even looked at Prokofiev for over a week and I am tempted to cancel. Bail. Ditch. Always my temptation. Just writing this down and confessing my sins to the unknown vastness of cyberspace (not that my reader base is vast - but you get the point) is serving as the ass-whooping I need to get myself to that black shiny thing with white buttons 4 feet away from me as I type.
Seth is doing dishes, the saint, and again, the dishwasher is running. And, oh, it was a lovely Mother's Day. Maybe I'll write about that later.