I kinda thought maybe I was being too rigid with my whole “wake up at 5:30” thing on a work-from-home day, but it was wonderful. Got up, had a cup of tea, did some reading, woke Ben, made him pancakes instead of something faster, saw him off, and it was still only 7:30. No meeting for another 90 minutes, so more reading, teeing up a few emails, more tea.

It was really easy to roll into the day and stay focused. Lunch was brief because I felt pretty caught up on personal reading from my long pre-dawn stretch, so it wasn’t a big deal to go downstairs and take a pass at the kitchen, which was looking appropriate for a Friday in a busy house. It was an excuse to listen to a sort of left-center (not center-left) podcast go into a panic about Bernie Sanders. There was a flutter and ripple of excitability, then a moment of self-soothing that ended with “or maybe all the progressives just cancel each other out and we get Biden?”

I think strategic voting is going to kill us all. I just do.

The one hard thing was that I procrastinated on the most tedious thing I had to deal with. After wasting some time making chia pudding (blackberries, soy milk, honey), then fooling around with some not strictly necessary things, then eating the chia pudding, then texting Ben to let him know I’d made and then eaten chia pudding and liked it after all, I sat down to do the tedious thing and twice found myself standing in the hallway outside my office trying to physically escape from the tedium. Twice I found myself out there in the hallway before I even knew what I was doing, and twice I groaned aloud, slumped back into the office, and sat down to do the thing. The second time, it actually stuck and I finished.

I think, given my attentional difficulties, that by the time I got to the tedious thing I’d pretty much wrung out my executive function for the day. I’m still getting used to early rising, and I’m still not great about locking in a solid 7 hours of sleep time. So by late in the day I am sometimes feeling scattered and I’m distractible.

Anyhow. Here we are at the end of the day. The family is still probably about an hour out from being home. I’ve got the ingredients out for the penne alla vodka, and just need Al to come home with the actual vodka part of the meal. I feel mildly proud because it was so easy to poke my head into the new pantry/liquor cabinet and see, in the clean white lighting I installed, that there was no vodka after all. Three weeks ago, I’d have been on my hands and knees fumbling around in the dark of the closet and wondering if the vodka had fallen under the heap of reusable grocery bags.