In Which Your Humble Blogger thought a thing, or thought a thing was what was being thought, but know thinks that thought was not thinking the thought, wait, I'll start again.
In Which Your Humble Blogger did the arithmetic to determine the approximate number of Monday mornings left in my work life, and you know, it could be worse.
In Which Your Humble Blogger didn't really used to believe in neurodiversity, and now doesn't really believe in neurotypicality. Progress!
In Which Your Humble Blogger turns the spotlight.
In Which Your Humble Blogger wrings yet another note out of the haggadah text. Surely, though, this is the last one, and next year I will not find anything new to say.
In Which Your Humble Blogger would of course love to know the fandoms that made y'all, if you want to share.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is hoping a couple of bits will be voice-overs that don't require memorization.
In Which Your Humble Blogger knows all of that wealth won't buy health but doesn't smoke a pint of tea a day, because that seems like a waste of tea leaves.
In Which Your Humble Blogger doesn't get in to the whole deal with outlawing the use of a particular language. Who would do that?
In which Your Humble Blogger made an appointment today for a first vaccine jab.
