This week’s essay is on “Checkpoint,” which has one of my favorite Buffy monologues. She smacks down someone(s) who really deserve it. And, as usual, there’s a lively follow-up discussion in the credits. You’re all invited, every time.
Things of Monday, just to make you all tired: I wrote 1,329 words on the current novel yesterday. Then I walked Kelly to the Skytrain, hit two groceries, came home to unload, breakfasted, set up the camera to shoot birds, changed, and went to a 75-minute hatha yoga class–this last was possible only because it’s practically in my backyard, and therefore requires no commute. I ran two errands at two banks, came home, replied to 75 student posts for Writing the Fantastic, pondered the three questions I can’t quickly reply to, answered 25ish e-mails, made Tuesday-Wednesday lunches for K and I, simultaneously made chicken mole for several nights’ supper, committed personal hygiene, schemed with K about our 25th anniversary trip (changes to the plan are in the works!) made ten Scrabble moves, did one load each of laundry and dishes, lamented the cruel fate that allowed a Kleenex to slip into the washer via someone’s jeans. I also made the usual weekly tweets about the Buffy essay. Plus, now, this post.
Somewhere in there I had time to briefly contemplate how Return to Cranford
So, what did you do?
