There is just something about today; when gloom sort of settles itself in your soul and you have to reconcile your hopes for sunshine to accommodate the torrential rain fighting it's way to the pavement outside the window. The day is gunmetal gray and cold. A feverish Brock is curled up in a blanket, staring blankly at the television. Norah Jones's bluesy tunes are singing their way through my living room, echoing my melancholy. Meatloaf is baking in the oven.
Today is gray and blue and gloomy.
It's just one of those days.
