So much to be done

... I woke too early to do any of it.

That is to say, I've been up since around 5.30 and am sitting here with my third/fourth cup of tea wishing I had made a list. I'm not awake yet, so the dull stuff, changing cat litter trays, proper cleaning, is still a vague hope in the distance but there is no actual plan. I look on FB to see that in the Jane Austen group I belong to, someone suggests Marianne Dashwood, romantic and Romantic heroine of Sense and Sensibility, would these days support 'cancel culture.' It isn't even trolling; it belongs in the same camp as those who have earnestly decided that Mr Darcy is autistic, and Emma Woodhouse is bi-sexual. I appreciate that all literary criticism works through the lens of its time, that the critic reveals the filters of their own era via their approach to another. We probably can't avoid that, but we should be aware of its drawbacks. This morning, I stare blankly, realising I'm too tired for Wordle and appear to have run out of Feliway.