If you’ve been reading Minnesota Transplant long enough, you know that some days I really don’t have anything to say.
But I write a post anyway.
Today is one of those days.
I write for practice. I’ve come up with something interesting or inane to say about 26 times a month on average over the past five years. (I don’t obsess with my stats much, no, though astute readers might have noticed I recently surpassed 1,000 followers. If you’re reading me on your iPad, that is. On my PC, I supposedly have 643 followers. Who can account for the vagaries of WordPress stat crunchers? Who pays attention to such minutia anyway?)
In any case, today was one of those rare days in May. I ran 3.53 miles this morning (again, who’s counting?) as the glorious sun was rising. Not too hot, not too cold, it was Goldilocks “just right.” When I walked the dog briefly this evening, it was “just right” again.
Today’s meals? Not worth mentioning, except to say pesto mayo is awesome on a bacon-and-egg sandwiches.
Didn’t do anything worth writing home about either, except one thing: I wrote 877 words on my work-in-progress. Click here for today’s taste of the memories of the year I turned 15.
That’s about it. Oh, I slept well last night, too. Hoping for the same tonight. Here’s wishing you sweet dreams.