goddess of bad roads and inclement weather, take down our names

Another round of bad cards, storms crowding out the option of a run, so the only thing left to do for this mood is to drink and vacuum and maybe scrub the floors again. (Yes, it must be that ghost.)

At any rate, it isn't too bad to be listening to the rain pound on the tin roof and how this unending, miserable, lifesucking heat has at least brought out a strange but comforting smell to the house, like sweet sun-cooked wood.