JE: 1, Stairs: 0

Summer is off to a much better start this year. I know I'm probably repeating myself, but the difference is just so striking. And I don't want to let myself take it for granted. (The coffee stains are still on the ceiling of the staircase from where I fell last year on my first outing post-finals, I noticed, as I walked the dog downstairs last Thursday.)

So yes, it was awesome to have a craving for cookie dough last Thursday, and go for a walk with T to the grocery store to purchase a tube of chocolate chip cookie dough. It was even better to eat chunks of it while baking the first batch, and then watch episodes of The Office on our awesome Wii Netflix program while the cookies cooled.

It was even more exciting when we got home from our trip last night to the uncooked half of my dough tube, which I promptly began baking while T set up the instant queue to watch Food Inc. (A must-see documentary for everyone who eats! And yes, I felt bad about eating all those cookies after we watched the film.)

Reading the lastest issue of Big Hands (#8) in bed until I was too tired to keep my eyes open was the best way to fall asleep. Even better was waking up, leashing up the dog and taking the zine over to my favorite coffee shop to finish reading over a chocolate croissant and a cup of coffee.

Of course, it's not just the relaxing that's a nice change of pace. It's also the productivity. The tangible productivity. Like finally figuring out what I need to do to get a driver's license in Big State when I lost my Virginia license at a bar way back at the 1/2 Way to JD party. And then actually following the steps to get the ball in motion. (Thank you, DMV for the $13 driving record fee.)

At the end of the day, it's nice to have other recently liberated classmates with whom to revel in this newfound freedom. So it was that I ended up sitting at a table outside Whole Foods with V playing Bananagrams as the sidewalks throbbed with late-afternoon foot traffic and the sun worked its way behind the cityscape. And now, I must go return text messages promising celebratory drinks and other summer revelry so rarely befitting of a Monday night.