This can usually be found on Twitter.
Except, I suppose, all hexakosioihexekontahexaphobics out there. Oh well. You can celebrate once midnight rolls in, and we're all still around.
Unless, of course, either you or I aren't, which would, I guess, be a bummer.
Am still trying to reconcile the whole home thing (cleaning up, cooking - I made french/bombay toast yesterday! For dinner, no less. With sausages. Think of the oil! Won't anyone think of the oil!), with the whole going-home thing, with the whole work thing, with Wombat being thrown in for good measure.
What is Wombat? He's a little doll wombat thingie, old, kinda grey; he is also, in a somewhat convoluted way, my personal Lance of Longinus (Evangelion sense). Why's that? Way, way, way too complicated to put out here in public and all that. Ask me if you feel like it, and if I feel like it, I'll tell you.
Still, all things considered, it's nice to have something to think almost endlessly about when I need to not think about other things.
Post #395, btw.
Good cheer.
This post was posted by Unknown at 5:39 pm
"A beach house," he said, "doesn't even have to be on the beach. Though the best ones are. We all like to congregate," he went on, "at boundary conditions". "Really?" said Arthur. "Where land meets water. Where earth meets air. Where body meets mind. Where space meets time. We like to be on one side, and look at the other."