Back at it again

If Thanksgiving was your thing, I hope you had a fine one. I did, after my own fashion. For four days, there were no alarms. Time became meaningless. I cast myself adrift on a sea of turkey with trimmings and whatever creative impulses came along. This time it turned into a four-day spree at Midjourney. Good fun.

That was then. And here’s Monday, all of a sudden, and back to the routine. Mostly. Work was work, huzzah! Mostly highs, no lows. That’s a win. At lunch I dropped the car off at the shop, not to be seen again for I have no idea how many days. Timed myself on the walk home. 10 minutes. 10 minutes the other way back to the office. Not bad. A gracious offer of a ride home help keep my evening from being 10 minutes shorter. Those minutes count. And I really, truly, did not feel like hearing any of my countless evening alarms. I was feeling kind of post-holiday back to work whiny and just didn’t feel like doing any of the things. That I enjoy. That I intentionally set aside time for. What the hell is wrong me me?

Alarm. All right, all right. Chores. Gotta do ’em. Alarm. Realization…four days of blowing my schedule through the Rounds off. Fix? Revise the schedule to bump everything up. As it happens, tonight was an Iaon/Worldbuilding night. That felt like winning the lottery. Okay. I’m back in.

So long Wednesday, I barely knew ye

Wherein our intrepid adventure survives another day. Here there be navel-gazings about doing the things we value, the Capitolian brooding grounds where regulations are hatched and set forth like so many flying monkeys, a nod to music history, and a brief reflection on the dramatic shift in the context of art perception over the millenia, along with the daily requisite of noodling and doodling. We may even get handsy with Rachmaninoff. Now with Jedi mind tricks and Feastings Greetings.