So, because I don't really feel like writing much, and because there is no conceivable transition between that lead in and pictures of me loitering on some stairs, I present this post largely without comment.
I don't know why I look so depressed. I had gone to the grocery store just before this, and I overheard a little girl tell her mother she wanted to be a ballerina after she saw me. Kind of made my day.
"Are you there, god? It's me, Margaret."