I finished the last of the audio books that I borrowed from the library--Alice McDermott's Child of My Heart--last night in bed. Since my cough has been keeping me awake most nights, I figured I should redeem the time. The only problem with listening to books in bed is that after the story ends I continue to dream in the narrator's voice, so when I wake up I have this "extra" narrative from where my brain continued the story and I have to work hard to remember what was really in the book and what wasn't. I'm about to start Safran Foer's Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close. I completed The Bronte Project on Monday night; it was a pure delight.

Well, no one has announced that he or she is resigning from the company for the last week and a half. That's practically a streak. Editor boy moved cubicles so that he now sits next to me. I wanted it that way so that we could have the benefit of being able to consult, face-to-face, with relative ease. Even with e-mail and IM I found that one of us was walking down the long stretch to the other's "office" a good bit of the time. He's a good neighbor.

I brought up Christmas stuff from my storage unit in the basement last night. I looked at all the beautiful ornaments that didn't make it out of their boxes this year (no room for the tree because of the livingroom furniture arrangement), and I felt glad thinking about my new huge apartment, how all the glassy, frosted baubles will be on display in December 2006...and it almost made me wish Christmas would hurry up and come, and then I remembered that it has just barely stopped being cold! And I perished the thought. Instead, I welcome the season of crisp salads, gazpacho, flavourful fruits, and cold cocktails (mojitos!).