Infirm of purpose...

...or just infirm; hard to say, really, but - whether or not I have an excuse, whether or not I'm actually ill - I lack all resolution. I was staying with a friend last night, and didn't get home till late morning; I'm seeing other people this evening; there are all these hours between, which I really ought to be filling with useful labour. Now above all, I should be constructively busy; I am a man much in need of a paying gig. And I am doing nothing, wimping my time away, pathetically waiting for someone to rescue me. Gah.

In other news: matociquala has an interesting post on brain-sidedness (which it occurs to me that I probably don't really need to say, since almost everyone who reads this must read her as well, but hey...), including a link to a quick test that will tell you whether your own brain is left- or right-handed. So I did that, and my brain is 100% entirely left-sided. Apparently the right side might as well not be there. Which is odd. I wonder if it might have come out differently if I weren't feeling so grim & depressed: if influence shifts with mood (or indeed mood with influence)?

In other other news: Barry had a second Christmas last week. A little delayed, due to the package criss-crossing the Atlantic, there and back and there again; but devonellington and costumeimp sent him toys!! Which are the Best! Toys! Ever!! And they came in a stocking, which he loves even more than the toys!!! It is his obscure object of desire, and it goes everywhere with him. He drags it around like a Mighty Hunter dragging prey; every now and then he gives it a little shake, to make sure it's still dead; and then he sits on it. Mightily.