Actually, I'm feeling better, but a day spent reading Sense and Sensibility has affected my diction in too tempting a way not to indulge.
The circumstances of my reading yesterday, in fact, lend themselves nicely to such language. I spent the better part of the afternoon and evening perusing my Regency novel whilst reclining on The Minister's chaise longue atop a burgundy chenille coverlet, propped up on pillows of an Indic design, sipping hot water with lemon out of a teacup WITH a saucer and well supplied with drowsy cats. For dinner we had savory crepes and homemade apple cider--the latter a highly effective treatment for a sore throat, I should add.
And then today we have more snow, more bitterly cold weather, etc. I like the snow, but that 40-degree day we had last week has ruined me for the winter; luckily I have some fantabulous spring break plans that are more or less keeping me going right now.
Anyway, my feeling slightly better means that today cannot be spent languishing upon fainting couches and the like. I do have a few things to do. I must: confirm that what I've planned for comp tomorrow is sensible; decide what on earth I'm going to do with the five very short, relatively uninteresting poems I for some reason assigned in the survey; read some more Monmouth for the upper-level; and perhaps--perhaps--begin grading the batch of short papers I got on Friday. I make no promises. I must also conclude the laundry and make some granola. And possibly some butter, as I have an inordinate amount of cream this week. Which also means culturing some buttermilk. Annnd...yes. That's it. I'd also like to watch a movie. Perhaps some 19th-c. period piece on Netflix Watch Instantly, since I'm spending the weekend more or less in that mode.
Alas! This is quite a boring post. I don't have any real grievances at the moment, though. Nope. Sorry. Happy Sunday, everyone!