(no subject)

I'm drowning in small notes to myself.

I've been busy sorting this coming term's teaching, dreaming about novels, contemplating grapes, being pensive about ghosts and a bunch of other things. There's a tumult of thoughts drifting across my desk and creating layers inside my handbag. if I am good and dutiful, they'll all be gone by tomorrow, scrunched into recycling, the thoughts all processed.

I wonder if hot chocolate will encourage duty?