Tediously trucking my ol' achin' feet through ten, twelve hours days at two different part-time jobs, I went into auto-drive. I didn't complain, but I also didn't really live this past week...or at least live meaningfully. There were, of course (or rather, thank God!), moments of beauty that I can recall (the daily morning cup of lavender earl gray tea with milk and honey, riding my bike through rain puddles, the savory deliciousness of Mike's famous sauteed rosemary pasta done to perfection), but, truth be told, I struggled to wrap my mind around anything once I was outside of work. I tried to read one of the library books I selected...I couldn't get through a paragraph. I tried to run. No way. Go to Yoga. No. Call a friend. Couldn't deal with talking about stuff cause stuff was work and work was, well, generally uninspiring. The dullness of too many hours in too uninspiring of settings tends extends to my off time. I lose Molly-toodling capa...