Hours later, we emerged from our dreams in what would prove to be a largely unproductive day. The soft whir of the freshly laundered sheets in the dryer to set the ambiance, we swayed trace-like to the office where we've yet to depart. [Curiously, the room capturing the brunt of my dislike oft becomes the greatest rouser of my apathy.] This is indeed a vile, loathsome room.

The thunder is singing its rumbling anthem now, and I'm desperately trying to discover a piece of productivity that seems mildly alluring…but it isn't looking good.