Otherwise, the weekend so far is unexciting. I have cut grass and critiqued stories for students and shopped and cooked and washed clothes. Now I must finish the critiques, iron some clothes and print out some stuff to read on the train because, unless I sleep through the alarm or decide at the last minute that I don't feel up to it, I'm off on a day trip to London to meet with fellow members of rec.arts.sf.composition, on account of
