I’ve been encountering a bit of blog blah recently, and it’s tempting to go on another hiatus until I retire and don’t feel the work pressure and negative energy. But I have a growing backlog — new ideas keep popping up — and I really do enjoy the writing.
Things are returning to normal around here; page hits are finally back to their low numbers. The party has died down considerably, and that lets the host leave the remaining guests so he can whip up some new treats (and maybe open that bottle of wine I’ve been saving).
Speaking of which, I meant to open two bottles this weekend, but life did one of those unexpected detour things. I’ll pour both those articles very soon, but today’s snack catches up on some things.
Another co-worker lost a battle with cancer this week. This is the second one 
It happened again last month. My heart is broken, I’ve lost my love and now I have to find a replacement. I’ve been in this position before; the “good ones” are so hard to find. And even when I do find one, the relationship never seems to last.
It’s been quite a while since the 
You know what bugs me? Well, a lot of things bug me, but this post is about something that’s bugged me for a long time. It also concerns a lesson learned about things that bug me. And it’s about why this post is being written in the first place.
Did you feel it? The Earth swung past a certain point in space; there was a little spacetime “bump” as we ran over the notch. Didn’t you feel it?
Logos con carne 