Ah, the joys of home ownership. This weekend, Kat and I did our taxes, and thanks to the whole house-buying thing, we got ourselves a return for the first time in a very, very long time. So today, I'm writing from the comfort of a snazzy new office chair. My old one was kinda beat when I first got it probably sixteen years ago, and the years have not been kind to it since. My new one, though hardly expensive, is a ridiculous improvement.
Think a crappy office chair ain't that big a deal? Try writing a couple novels in one. Of course, now Kat's worried that with the new chair, I'll go all soft, and start writing stories about puppies licking rainbows. Somehow, I don't see that happening.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna kick back, relax, and continue beating the living hell out of my protagonist.