The music has stopped for tonight. My wonderful P5 headphones are lying beside me, but I think the warm bed is a better choice past 1AM. It’s what I tell myself, after whisky and a relaxed evening.
I’ve spent the evening reading and contemplating, with a few short discussions on Twitter to break up the longer and heavier pieces that were sitting in my Instapaper queue. It’s a nice way to spend an evening, I enjoy it, and always wonder why I don’t do it more often. The answer to that is obvious, of course: It’s not productive.