I feel sympathy for those who have to evacuate. What a fucking catastrophe that would be. There's something bittersweet about my current comfort. I'm in bed, working (well, I should be), drinking tea, listening to twinkly music, with my baby curled up beside me. It makes me feel guilty.
I put on some perfume: L'Interdit Rouge. It is cool enough for it. I smell like a root beer float. It mixes beautifully with my skin chemistry.
I think it's time for another The Holdovers re-watch.