Annoying numbers and hard-boiled eggs.

I like numbers, save for those found in high-level cosmology and physics. And that’s really a jealousy issue: I hate that I don’t speak the language. I stopped my math education at university, year one. I can mostly understand the lectures but the papers and texts might as well be Greek. Which they also use. …

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Poorly designed experiments and good eyebrows.

My eyebrows are on fire. Obviously, not literally – that would be horribly damaging and I need more scars on my face like a fish needs more water. What I mean is, my eyebrows are looking up. Sigh. Again, not literally. But they’re thicker than they’ve been in a while. This is a good thing. …

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Recovery, lying, and intergalactic attacks.

I’m feeling better on the depression front. Depression ends much of life’s momentum when it’s in the ascendancy so it’s good that it ebbs and flows. And since, to paraphrase the immortal Timmy, it’s currently flocking the other way, I’m writing again. When I can get a word in edgewise. Depression’s wane gives my eating …

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