It turns out that packing up all your belongings and, in the following days, unpacking them all right back where they came from, does not make for blogging (or bloggable) days. It does not make for particularly good writing days, either. I am a creature of habit and routine, and when my routine is askew the writing is harder. Actually, pretty much everything sailed out the window, up to and including eating; the writing probably survived the best of all.
On the bright side, the walls are repainted and shiny clean now, although it is entirely possible the paint fumes are messing with my head, for I am ludicrously tempted to never title another story, ever again. I shall set a minimalist trend. Story #1, followed by Story #2, and so on. Establishing chronology will be ridiculously easy.
Or! I could title them all "Choose Your Own Title". That would work, wouldn't it? It could be a sort of post-modern deconstruction of the storywriting/reading process.
(No, I don't buy it either. I told you the paint fumes were messing with my head.)