I was fiddling with the old dates today, you know, for a bit of a lark. Completely useless, I'm prepared to admit it. But there's not much else to do in this heat, unless you're in the habit of taking a siesta. And while there's no shame in a well-earned catnap, I can't be settling down and throwing two or three hours out the window every day like just so much piss. Unlike some people, of course.
Ah, yes, speaking of whom . . . it's nearly your day, Camille. 30 Thermidor.