OK, I'll bite.

It just came out. The weather is wonderful: warm, but not too warm (an opinion not shared by local reptilians who say they'd like more heat) eliciting in me memories of spring. Thirty five years living in and near San Francisco and my head still hasn't reprogrammed itself to understand spring and fall are when the heat happens here.

The work day, otherwise, was frenetic: eat lunch working at the desk, everyone running around putting out fires. But I've been feeling good and when the days are over I've been puttering around the apartment doing (little) things that I've been putting off now for years. So is this a sign of spring? Of madness? Of brain disease? There are so many more options that come to mind to explain your behavior as you grow older, don't you think?