I don't have much to say about the day. It snowed like it was supposed to and I barely got anything done. Just typed up one and a half journals. Which, I suppose, is one and a half more than I would have done on any other day.
Went to see Dear John and liked it as far as sappy romances go. John disliked it, which wasn't a surprise.
Stayed inside and watched the snow for the rest of the day. Until, that is, it got too dark to see.
Took a lot of pictures of nothing.
All-in-all, it was worth not going to work.
Tomorrow we head to another museum. Hopefully I am feeling well enough to enjoy it.
Now, to bed.
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