My microcosm:
The macrocosm:
At times like this, I totally get the flood. I understand Sodom and Gomorrah. Just torch the whole thing. Press the reset button. Start over. This is not working. Try again later.
Have any of you seen my David Bowie CD? The one with the awesome cover of the Pixies’ song “Cactus”? Man, I’ve a yearning to listen to that, and I can’t find my CD. Apparently I didn’t think to rip it. So sad.
Also, my laptop is making periodic ping of death noises. I keep waffling between trying to get every possible second out of this ailing drive and not using my computer at all because it might crash and burn when I’m doing something really critical. Not conducive to work. I don’t want to be two weeks without my laptop, but it’s coming.
Cultural differences: the word “ice house” has diametrically opposed meanings, depending on where you are from. To me, an ice house is the place you go to get ice (or, you know, the gas station that used to be the place you went to to get ice for your cold box back in the day). It is associated in my mind with the middle of July…with heat, lemonade and squinting at sun glare. Apparently, in other places an ice house is a house built on ice used to shelter yourself from the snow and wind while you stand on frozen water, fishing. I cannot imagine why one would do such a thing, but there you have it. Ice house.
I did real well with the blogging for a week, then dropped off the face of the earth for a week. Fortunately, each new week is a chance to be more assiduous.