For once I'm in a writing mood. It might be the melancholy grey of the day or that I heard "Penny Lane" on the radio this morning, but all I want to do today is sit in my (freezing cold) apartment and spin words. And so---of course---I'm stuck here at work. Where, even if I write a little, I can't quite manage to escape the guilty sense that I ought to be doing what I'm paid to do. And where, even if I write a little, I'm constantly distracted by customers and coworkers. Alas. I shall simply have to hope that tomorrow's day off proves as grey and writerly as today.

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