The extent of my productivity for the day is at an abyss. If I could find a book in my house in which I haven't already read I'll be jumping over hedges to do so. All the snow in our small little town is gone. I'm staring at my piano building up a sizable amount of anguish for not having played for so long but not enough to actually do so. Regardless of all above and that beyond yonder a little someone is always curled up beside me.