What always follows several days in a row of too much activity? A big honking crash. Like night follows day, three weeks of frantic working, cleaning, playing, and socializing is followed by a day spent entirely in pajamas, whining about how even my blood hurts. I'm just about to turn in, still wearing last night's jammies, having never achieved my one modified goal of getting a shower. I had a lot of super important things to do today, and not a one happened. Tomorrow might be sporty, but at least I got some extra rest.
I went down for a hard nap mid-afternoon, and slept for what might have been two hours. It was hard to tell. I know I had some vivid dreams, that included a lot of house remodeling (because that's an obsession of mine), and an oddly high-tier social gathering. Near the end of the dream, I remember getting waved at and wished goodbye by name from first Paul McCartney walking past me and then Ringo Starr as he drove off. I was in the midst of composing a social media post along the lines of "live your life in such a way that Paul and Ringo wave at you and call your name," when a noise outside woke me up. I had to quickly come to terms with the fact that neither Paul nor Ringo knew me from Adam. Alas.
Speaking of social media posting, as recently as yesterday, I had never heard of the new Meta/Instagram product Threads. This evening I saw a couple people on Twitter refer to it, and by nightfall I had signed up. Finally I think there might be a workable replacement for Twitter so it's safe to jump off that sinking ship. Sounds like tens of millions of other people had the same thought in the last 36 hours or so. If anyone wants to find me, my handle is the same name as this blog (not that I have posted anything yet, especially not claiming an acquaintance with half of the Beatles).
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