Then I did laundry and took out the long-overdue compost (later this week, I will do the same with the long-overdue recycling), so I get productive points.
And then, I met fennel at Diesel for coffee around 2. It turns out that Diesel is quite the busy place on Sunday afternoons. I don't usually go there at that time, so I was surprised to find no free tables. We chatted for a while and eventually realized it had gotten dark and we were hungry, and, hey, whoa, it's 7pm. So we bussed to Union Square for dinner at Macchu Picchu. How did I not know there was a Peruvian restaurant in town? I was very happy with my picante de mariscos, and I will go back. Then, suddenly, it was 9:30 and the restaurant staff were, apparently, trying to close.
I actually felt kind of bad about that, 'cause we'd been sitting chatting for a while, and I just figured Sunday was a slow night, because it wasn't that late, but then someone stuck their head in to ask if they were closed, and they said yes. Oops! I wish there were a good way for a restaurant to tell people who are lingering that they ought to leave. I mean, I know it's rude of them to come out and say that, but, hmph, I retroactively feel rude for having kept them there. Of course, they did wait for us to be leaving before they started putting the chairs up on the tables, so I guess if they'd been really desperate to get rid of us, they'd've started doing that to give us the hint? Who knows.
I walked home from there, which was awfully nice; I like how quiet Sunday nights are, and the moon was bright and limning the clouds with silver.
Suddenly, of course, Sunday's gone, but it was an awfully good one. I think I'm finally feeling like I've returned from Puerto Rico.