Jazzed.

Rare circumstances serve as the context for this entry. Both of my regular readers know all about the death watch at the allergist’s office. Well, for the first time in the history of this modest web site, an entry is coming to you live from home – immediately after an allergist visit. But wait, it gets even better. For the first time in the short history of Kauffman household (version 2.0) allergist visits, I return from a death watch to an empty house. The stereo is playing at “by myself” levels. I sit perched on the couch, with nothing to do. Every item on the nightly “to do” list is either done or can’t be started without “the daughter”. The tragedy in all of this is: I want to do something productive. I know myself relatively well, and I know these feelings are fleeting; not to mention relatively rare. It’s like I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go. I even took the desperation lap around the house, looking for something to do. The hamper is empty, the house is clean, and the computers are in good working order.

Ah… there it goes. I feel the need to work leeching out through my body and flowing into the soft, comfortable confines of the living room couch.

Oh look, here comes Cheryl’s car.