Awoke to a late start again this morning. Was shooting for around 8:30 to get up and moving around, but that actually materialized at more like 9:45. Kris goes back to school next week, so he's got to get his routine normalized before the mornings hit him like a brick wall. The problem is that it's easier to stay up late - seems to be our creative time of day, despite the fact that society was really designed for morning people. Oh well.

Went downtown around noonish, wanted to check out another art supply store. Primary Art Supply is an amazing; huge selection considering the size of the place, and surprisingly enough none of the staff members I encountered were noticably pierced, tattooed or branded.

Nonetheless, I felt like such a poser walking around in the store, wide-eyed at the bright colors of tubes and bottles, palates and paper stacked above eye level. I don't know what most of that stuff is for, and I wasn't looking for anything in particular, so when a guy asked me if I needed help with something, I had to admit out loud that I was just looking. Somehow that always seems to me like such a shameful admission.

When we finally wandered away empty handed, we headed over to the bookstore to pickup textbooks. We bought what they had used, and Kris is now on a quest to buy the rest of his required literature used online.

There were lots of parents and kids at the bookstore, in what I imagined to be their first trip to a college bookstore as a student. They were trying to figure out where to find the textbooks for their classes, and we mostly avoided them. I noticed that quite a few were sporting university apparel that still had the store creases in the sleeves.

Grocery store, then home. Hit once again with the smell that invades our apartment only when we leave for more than an hour. Something unidentifiable - musty maybe? We've tried everything short of a flamethrower to tame the odor, but nothing has worked so far. We opened the windows in the living room and office, exposing the house to lizards, frogs, and all sorts of fauna, in the hopes that the place will "air out". And of course, we won't know whether it's worked until the next time we're away and back again.

Laundry and mail. Bank statement announces that Bank of America has screwed us once again, this time on our savings account. How does a savings account with less than $15 making 0.37% interest end up with only 1/3 of the balance at the end of the quarter? Monthly maintenance fees, of course! I made Kris call the bank and get our money back. We also closed the account, and in the future will be saving our money in a coffee can or under the mattress.

Maybe tomorrow will be better if we get up early.