• There is no way to adequately describe Karma’s favortite game. Sure, I could say, she jumps under the sheet on the bed, rolls onto her back, and then attacks with wild abandon anything that brushes across the sheet while purring like an outboard motor; but– it just doesn’t begin to convey how cute, ferocious, and funny it really is. I’m tempted to try and take video of it.

• Based on the theory of random reinforcement, after today, my fear of being exactly an hour late will continue to plague me for quite some time.

• Writing is hard. Writing well is harder. Writing well when people are messing with your head is nigh impossible.

• There are a lot of festivals in this town. No really. I lot of ’em. Who knew?

• While I am planning to go to Bastille Days– I will not be wearing a beret. I don’t own a beret. I don’t want to own a beret. Think about it, I would look quite silly in one of those things. I’m going to wear my jester hat.

• Handwritten letters from your ‘rents are either very, very good or very, very bad. If it is in the middle, it isn’t a letter, it is a note. Probably a grocery list.

• Our treadmill has developed a squeak. A good squeak. Apparently, it doesn’t want me falling off the back any more than I do– so now it squeaks when I get close to the back roller. I believed it saved me twice this week. Good treadmill, good treadmill. (At this rate, I’ll be giving it a name.)

That is all. We now return you to your regularly scheduled avoidance behaviour.

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