Oh dear. Easter Sunday. Everyone's gone. Carolyn's here working. By working I mean sitting, watching Desperate Housewives, drinking beer. Oh fuck it, I worked a little. Productive Productive Productive. Feels so good, hate that it does.
Let us take bets... paper done... tomorrow at noon? Tomorrow night? Will I find another wind after this beer to write miraculous words concerning the role of improvisation in dance technique? I hate dance technique anyway. That's not true. I hate cocky diva know it alls, but that's beside the point. Hmm, almost midnight, my new daily sudoku will be up soon. Then maybe I'll write 300 words more.