Yesterday was a cabin-feverish (not COVID-feverish, thank heaven) sort of day. I tried to get some practice long-reading, but that didn’t go anywhere; Margaret got some writing done, but we were both unsettled and a bit on edge. M went for a late-afternoon walk, and I finished up my ultra-short note on ‘“Mercy” in Popular Music’ for EBR. When Margaret came home, we dined and watched television.
It’s difficult for me to concentrate much on serious work. The situation just fizzes and buzzes at the margins of my attention, and I wind up looking at Twitter for a half hour, or some other such time sink.
This morning’s mile went moderately smoothly. Still inexcusably cold for late March (where’s the ‘goes out like a lamb’? Even golden retriever?); it was 3° when I started, creaky and stiff, but by the time I was done warming up, the mile came in at an adequate 10:16.