alexpgp | A typed scrap found in a scribbled-in book of Baudelaire...

I was casually flipping through a copy of my late mother's old copy of a Classiques Larousse study guide for Baudelaire's Les Fleurs du Mal when I spied a yellowed piece of paper stuck within, on which someone - presumably my mother - had typed some lines on "Procrastination," attributed to one Abraham Cowley. They go:

Tomorrow you will live, you always cry;
In what far country does this morrow lie,
That 'tis so mighty long ere it arrive?
Beyond the Indies does this morrow live?
'Tis so far-fetched, this morrow, that I fear
'Twill be both very old and very dear.
Tomorrow I will live, the fool doth say;
Today itself's too late: the wise lived yesterday.

* * *I put together the rest of the IKEA bookshelves and Galina managed to fill about half of them while clearing some of the other surfaces around here.

This means I'll likely have to harden my heart and get rid of a bunch of stuff - but I mean really get rid of it - enough so that there's room for the essentials.
* * *I majorly dislike nonrefundable tickets.

Cheers...