Why yes, I am feeling ept.

I just cut open the side of my finger with a pair of scissors. Right at the joint. Friggin' ow.

Also set hair on fire. (Not much, just a little wisp of it.)

In other news, just put the peach-ginger-vanilla sack mead in for first ferment. I hope I proofed the yeast enough to get it through the shock of the warm sugar bath I just gave it; that was the last of my wine yeast. Will need to restock when these are done. Well, blessings of the Lady of Intoxication upon my booze. (Y'know, I should get some printable bottle labels next we go to the brew shop and put the bird-in-a-box glyph on 'em. That's plenty distinctive for a mark.)

Further brain-scat:

I think I'm oddly tickled by seeing someone going by the handle 'tash' posting about preaching on Sunday and service to God on preachermanfeed. This may or may not be too obscure an amusement.

Back on original meds. With luck, the glitches I associated with the change in formulation will now go away. Fuck "medically identical" and the horse it rode in on. In other medical complaints, the skin under my eyes is drying out again. Bleahrg. Back to hydrocortisone land for me.

Perturbing erispope's character deeply on overlandmush.

Given that I know what the next bit is, why the hell can't I write it? I've even started the section. Sheesh.