Saturday, December 24, 2016
insular
It is 4:41 p.m., and I have yet to leave the house today, spending time wrapping presents, napping, eating, and now napping. (Though the last sentence is long-ish, it is NOT a run-on sentence, which has nothing to do with sentence length, longevity, rhythm, or cadence. Look it up.) Is my staying in a reaction to the aforementioned frenzy or a tidal opposite of activity or mere holiday depression? (How dare one call it mere, ma mere.) But, having shaved and showered, I shall now venture out into the world, beyond the insular confines of my pauline walls.
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