I used to read, much of the night, and go south in the winter, but recently the unholy task of washing the Nasty Smells from A to Z doesn't seem so nasty. Now I have something to do at 2 in the morning, as everything dirty goes in, one after one after one. Next to writing and reading, having good, clean fun (read: laundry) is all there is to do. I mean, it's not like anyone else is going to do it, right?