[checking supplies in social media fall-out shelter]

I should start an illness journal. It feels like I spend a lot of time sick. (I have a cold now.)

I'm unreasonably psyched for turkey sandwiches over the next few days.

My toddler just realized that our dog *also* used to nurse, what with being a mammal. “Nellie! Puppy! Nurse! Milk!” [repeat]

Packing for Marrakesh in a week and a half, courtesy of the Shuttleworth Foundation.

Feels like it’s been a while since I’ve scrobbled any audio.

Portland was lovely. I spent only 36 hours there, most of them in a hotel (bedroom and conference room), so I can’t say I saw much. I had three local meals in that time. But the scenery was lovely, the people friendly, and the transportation network top-notch.

Sometimes, when I think of something I’d like to learn more about, I find myself coming up with a search term for it, even if I’m in no position to search then or anytime soon.

I bet Sting gets tired of people confusing him with Alf.

As a general matter, I’m inclined to trust people named Mookie.

There are a lot of mosquitoes around this beach house. I’m smacking them on my legs every 10 seconds, when out at night. I just put on some DEET and, I’ll be damned, not one mosquito. It’s not that I really doubted bug repellent’s effectiveness, but I’d never tested it like this.

Oof, I just realized I’m getting sick. Time to batten down the hatches.

The weather today is very Tom Waits' "Closing Time." Which I've been listening to on repeat all day, the effect of which is that I'm very sleepy. But the music honors the day, and that's what counts.

My brain has decided that “Mott the Hoople” has the same grammatical structure as “Meet the Beatles” and I am delighted.

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