I'm drawing a blank this morning. I could talk about American Idol, but what is there to say except that they should just cut the show short and crown Melinda Doolittle the winner. Oh and wasn't Paula a mess last night? Something was wrong with her makeup and it made her upper lip disappear. They should just replace her with a gushing robot.
I could talk about how we finally notified the tenants upstairs about the acceptable hours of doing the laundry. I wrote a small note, something like "Hi, please refrain from doing laundry after 10pm as it causes too much noise. Thank you for your cooperation." Serge thought that I was very curt and beastly with the letter, so he wrote a big paragraph that tippy toes up to the point. And then he still felt guilty about it. I tried to explain that setting boundaries is nothing to feel guilty about, if anyone should feel guilty, it's the disrespectful tenants! (Even though I believe that guilt isn't really a useful emotion in any circumstance.)
I could talk about the weather, how it's finally warming up, and that today should see the death of the snow around our house. I could lament how it's such a slow news day, or detail the fish we had for dinner. I suppose I could ramble on about anything. But I'm not. Bear with me, this is off the top of my head at 6am.