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bear by san

March 2017



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criminal minds boom

go to L.A. on a dare and you go it alone

I am Le Tired. 1200 words on "Uniform" each Saturday and Sunday, and 2300 today. Cursed thing refuses to write itself.

Completely worn out here, mentally and physically. Really I just want to lie down and have a nap. I'm sure some of this is too much work, and some of it is the four and a half hour martial arts class I attended yesterday.

In any case, I don't believe I'm going climbing tonight.

What am I on?

Right now, I should take the dog for a walk between squalls.


I should take the dog for a qalk between squalls.

This would be a quantum-walk, no doubt: where his state is entangled with lamp-posts?
I love it so much when people make fun of my typing.
I know you do. But in this instance, it's just too joyful: that's not a mistake, it's an expansion of the possibilities.
(I've just been reading Hannu Rajaniemi, whose work is full of q-dots and qupts and suchlike, so my mind is trained to turn that way...)
Yup, you're tired. I can tell because you're going to take the dog for a 'qalk'.
No, I'm a crappy typist all the time.

Nothing would please me more, but apparently my task this week is pulling everybody else's ass out of the fire.
The dog would appreciate it a great deal more if you took it for a walk between squirrels. . .
Rest is also good.
Rest is lovely. Unfortunately, apparently I have bottomless work to do, and even more bottomless obligations.
I'm sorry to hear that. I hope it calms down soon.