I got a very much needed new computer for Christmas, for which I am extraordinarily grateful.
Not worrying I'm going to lose my entire thesis is something to not kill myself over, that's for sure. I am knocking on proverbial wood as I type that. Because there is no wood in close proximity. But oh, if there were!
Ely ate a bunch of candy canes and puked like eight times all over the living room floor. There were little candy-cane colored puddles to prove it.
Sometimes I worry blogging is selfish, or self-absorbed, or not as edifying as reading the Canterbury Tales in the original Middle English, or singing to nursing home patients, or a number of other things that aren't sitting by myself in front of a computer generating sentences from random musings and a menagerie of neuroses. But I guess it's alright. It's like a less serious writing exercise, a form of release for a small audience, or not even.
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