In which I nope out on myself

I have a thing to write about, but I really don’t want to write about it right now, partially because my own thinking on the matter is far from settled and partially because I am not really interested in attracting the interest of the internet right now and it would be just my luck that the post that I didn’t want to go viral would end up being a big deal. I’m deliberately vaguebooking, I know; needless to say if you follow F/SF writer Twitter at all, yes, that. And if not, well, trust me, don’t go a-Googlin’. That way lies only madness.

I was planning to review Katherine Addison’s An Angel of Crows today, but I rather inconveniently haven’t finished it. It’s coming, though, and the likelihood of a positive review is high. So plan on that … tomorrow, maybe? Sure.

In which brain melty need stopping

It has been a hell of a day, not in a bad way but in a there is too much information in my head and I don’t know what to do with any of it sort of way. I was out and about for a couple of hours– actual hours! Not just a quick trip to the Target in my back yard!– this morning, mostly running errands for my father-in-law, and I just had a conversation with my wife that ended with not only deciding to go ahead and move forward with LASIK but I also need to look into either a home equity loan or a mortgage refinance tomorrow, and there was a lot of talk about things like new roofs and bathroom and kitchen renovations and my brain has already spent some time today trying to figure out how to rearrange my office so that the layout makes a little bit more sense and that’s a lot of work and there is some work around the house that I need to do and oh a lot of that stuff needs contractors and do we know any contractors or maybe does your dad know any contractors and I really need to repurpose my entire computer setup to be better for video editing because I’m going to have to do a lot of that this fall one way or another and oh America just had its biggest day so far in terms of new cases of COVID so let’s fall down that depressing-ass rabbit hole too while we’re at it.

I need a nap.


7:46 PM, Wednesday June 24: 2,376,263 confirmed cases and 121,932 Americans dead.

An addendum to the previous post

One of the following two things is true, and I’m not sure which, despite having read more than your average person about British history and literature:

OPTION ONE: British currency, pre-Euro, is bullshit, and I refuse to believe anyone can keep track of how many guineas are in a shilling or how many Robux are in a whangdoodle or whatever; y’all make fun of us for not having the metric system but this is how you do your money?

OPTION TWO: British currency is not in and of itself bullshit, but the way people write about it is; anyone mentioning British currency in any capacity is consistently doing the equivalent of saying “she spent three dollars, two quarters, two dimes and three pennies” instead of the more sensible “she spent $3.73.”

It’s gotta be one or the other, I just don’t know which.

Bloggy navel-gazing

If I make it until 8:00 PM before just deciding to post that I’m taking the day off, I should probably just not post, because I kinda already took the day off, didn’t I?

Ah well.


8:01 PM, Thursday, April 9: 461,437 confirmed cases, 16,478 American deaths.

Graaaah

I have had nothing to say for the last couple of days; not for any good reason, just one of those things.

By way of apology, please enjoy this picture of a cat.