That Bloody Girl

Just got home from a very long road trip following two months in Boise. I think I may have slept for twelve hours straight. Now, I am having carrot cake for breakfast--leftover from last night's pizza delivery--and amusedly watching my dog's holy-shit-we're-home, early morning shenanigans. My espresso machine is still in the car, but the whole thing is a moot point without milk, and I have none in my fridge. I have nothing in my fridge, except a large jug of purified water and probably some horseradish sauce. Before I left Boise and went on an insane road trip--Boise to Canton, Canton to Seattle, in six days or else because I had a job interview yesterday afternoon--I was thinking about starting to review--and when I say "review" I mostly mean "react"--the books I am reading here on this blog. Like I said, they would be reactions, more than anything. I am terrible at reviews. Usually, I don't do them at all, but the books I have been reading this