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Not much of one overall: only 280 words. But hey, that's more than I've produced in a while while I was busy consuming my internal organs in fits of angst and distress. (Which I really oughtn't do, as it hurts.) I have also played a few thousand years of Civilization III and then this realtime strategy game that Kevin says Darker recommended to him, I think, if my brain is functional. But I beat one scenario on that which was Being Incredibly Annoying.
Post-wordcount thought-of-the-post: And I ponder at translations across lines of people some because so much weirdness is of such things these days. People are hard to talk to. This most recent relapse into the Pits of Despair was one of those things where one thing was said, another thing was heard, hijinks ensued. Shouldn't do that either, for the aforementioned reason.
Another tangent: while I've been dealing with all the . . . I've been playing two-player Tetris with the universe and the universe is much better than I am, so I get random bits falling on me all the time . . . I've been collecting all kinds of different responses to human-in-distress. I mean, I got a cow udder, which is probably not one of the most normal things to give a human-in-distress. I've had hugs and people telling me that I sound mostly sane and people talking sense into me and people talking nonsense at me, in varying levels of acknowledgement-of-pain and lightening-of-mood and offering-of-comfort and distraction-from-thing and iteration-of-obvious. People are complicated little buggers, aren't they?
I am better; I am saner; I have had popcorn with lots of butter and I am pleased with that in my little universe. I cannot find buckwheat, not even in Trader Joe's, so I ponder at how to deal with that concern at length. We'll see if the sanity trick persists, or if I fall off the wagon again.
Post-wordcount thought-of-the-post: And I ponder at translations across lines of people some because so much weirdness is of such things these days. People are hard to talk to. This most recent relapse into the Pits of Despair was one of those things where one thing was said, another thing was heard, hijinks ensued. Shouldn't do that either, for the aforementioned reason.
Another tangent: while I've been dealing with all the . . . I've been playing two-player Tetris with the universe and the universe is much better than I am, so I get random bits falling on me all the time . . . I've been collecting all kinds of different responses to human-in-distress. I mean, I got a cow udder, which is probably not one of the most normal things to give a human-in-distress. I've had hugs and people telling me that I sound mostly sane and people talking sense into me and people talking nonsense at me, in varying levels of acknowledgement-of-pain and lightening-of-mood and offering-of-comfort and distraction-from-thing and iteration-of-obvious. People are complicated little buggers, aren't they?
I am better; I am saner; I have had popcorn with lots of butter and I am pleased with that in my little universe. I cannot find buckwheat, not even in Trader Joe's, so I ponder at how to deal with that concern at length. We'll see if the sanity trick persists, or if I fall off the wagon again.