A Really Boring Post About Why We Cannot See the Bedroom Floor

So we went to New York.  We woke really early in the morning to catch a flight that would get me home in time for my Monday evening class.  After the class I was very tired after being up for 18 hours and fell asleep. Then I got up for work, and then I went to my Tuesday night class, and then I was tired again.  And then suddenly it was midnight on Friday and  my luggage was still on the bedroom floor--mostly unpacked, but not so unpacked it could be put away.  On Saturday we prepared for Paul's shoot on Sunday by procuring many things:  boys T-shirts and boys jeans, and some bags of Doritos and a bear suit. And then I thought about things that one sometimes needs on a shoot, and filled a box with scissors and a matte knife and sharpie pens and pencils with erasers and multiple sizes of these special clamps called "grip clips," and assorted kinds of tape and some fishing line and some ribbon.  Some of these we used during the shoot. Some of it was destroyed.  But many things were left, to be returned to the stores where we bought them or the shelves and drawers and the garage where we found them, but it was dark and cold and we were running late for a dinner, so we carried them upstairs in a hurry and left them.  After dinner, it was late  and we were so sleepy. And then it was Monday and there was work and class, and then it was Tuesday...