It's raining now, and I'm partially in bed. Feet over the covers, back against the pillows. A tower of library books sits on my nighstand (the telephone desk, a gem of a find at the flea market). It is the perfect time to start, crack open the cover and dive brain first into a parenting book (re: the strong-willed child) or the epic fiction (Franzen's ironic Oprah pick) or the cookery book (anything Jamie Oliver).
But it's ten till midnight. And spring break officially starts tomorrow. And the man is away. And there's a winter advisory. And I'm exhausted.
Surely, those are the makings of an adventure.