Then there were those days when nothing much happened but the things that hadn't been happening in previous days. And at the ends of those days, she found herself wishing she could name her tasks differently, give them lightsome epithets to catch at the ways they were satisfying to undertake, gratifying to complete. But at the ends of those days, she also found herself tired of contemplating those things that were over and that required no memorialization. Good work, well done. There were things she needed to do, and things others needed her to do, and so she did them. Some days are like that. Some of the best days are like that.