a quirk

I can spend hours working on embroidery and not even bat an eyelash at how much time it takes. I can whip off a decent translation of a short text in under an hour. I can produce dinner (granted, it's not gourmet, but it's edible) in twenty minutes. So why can I not seem to find five minutes to sew one button back onto one of my favorite shirts?

I'm leaving my laptop here, cleverly disguised as something else. When and if somebody invents a computer bag that will let me put as much different stuff in it as my backpack lets me put in it, I'll buy one and bring my computer everywhere. For now, though, computer and shampoo in the same bag is just asking for a disaster. Besides, I'm not quite such a slave to my e-mail that I can't largely ignore it for two weeks. I might check it once or twice just to keep ahead of the spam. So, if you want to get ahold of me, call my cell phone.

I really should finish packing. That means I have to decide how many books to bring with me.