Sep 10, Another No-art Day

It’s 7 pm and I’ve just clocked out of my contract job. At this point in the day my biological clock says “Stop! It’s time to shutdown. No more thinking, no more calculating, no more trying and striving. Now’s the time for guilty pleasures.” By “guilty pleasures”, my clock means watching Masterchef, which I will be doing tonight.

Besides guilty pleasures, there’s family time, which starts at 7:30. We take showers, finish up the day’s dishes, and sit down to write the shopping list for tomorrow’s trip to the co-op. I have to decide whether I’ll be cooking something special over the weekend, or will I just eat beans all week?

For the first time in months I’m able to work while Nacho the Pug is in the room. He’s reached the stage where he’s content to sit and chew on his toy at my feet while I’m typing. Until recently he was so devilish that I couldn’t take my eyes off him for a second lest he be tearing all of the pillows off the sofa and generally vandalizing the house. Ah! It’s so peaceful tonight.