Today I woke up from a nap to one of those amazing thunderstorms that Charleston does so well. Even after the rain passed the sky had that perfect bruised bluish-purple tint that gives you an excuse to listen to all sorts of melancholy music while doing weird things like pondering and contemplating. Weird, but good.
All in all, I need to have a discussion with whoever is in charge of weekends. This one was much, much too short.
Never gets old, never gets old.