A Concession to Genius
Demanding my "ideas" at this hour is rather presumptuous, yet someone in this residence must maintain a baseline of cultural sophistication. I marched over to a pad of pale yellow sticky notes resting beneath the warm glow of the desk lamp. Gripping the lower shaft of an oversized ballpoint pen, I methodically drafted a preliminary list of essential pursuits: interpretive dance, advanced clarinet vibrato, and self-portraiture in oil. Upon rereading it, however, I realized such unvarnished brilliance would likely overwhelm an untrained palate. With a weary groan, I dragged a heavy line through the interpretive dance section and underlined "proper quietude" instead. You are welcome.

