Funk. No, not that kind. The bad kind.

Temperatures have started to climb again – as I write this, it is a balmy three degrees. Morning spent in a crazy dive down internet wormholes – but by 1pm, I had settled down to writing. By 1.15, I had stopped. A couple of phone calls, a couple of small, meaningless tasks that I could have passed off to one of the cats… and that was it. I hate days like this.