I spent the evening at the kitchen table reading I Shall Wear Midnight, by Terry Pratchett. We've owned the book for years, but apparently I never actually finished it because I had no recollection of the end at all.
Fuck me he was a good writer.
My cat hung out with me too which was nice, she sat with her tail wrapped around her legs and dozed, occasionally waking up and standing on the book to demand pets. Currently she has found a box left out from my in-laws packing and is bathing in it.
It's been a decent night and that is all I have for now.
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