The state of the Chaz (because after all, it is all about me. The internets included)

[desperance]

Even when I'm miserable, I still do better with a plan. I like to know what I'm up to.

And what I say is, given I feel rotten already, I might as well do the things I hate to do. They're not going to make me feel any worse about myself, are they?

So this morning I phoned the insurance company to make a claim for the downpipe, and then I went to the Lit & Phil and proofread the first two chapters of Light Errant, which Vonda and I are converting into an e-book for BVC. [And good lord, I know I was a younger man in those days, but even so. I, um, I am better than that now. I am resolutely not rewriting it. Well, resolutely trying. I might be blitzing the occasional redundancy, unpicking the worst convolutions. Might be.]

Right now I am munching grapes and heating soup, for I am after all convalescent. Also, I cut myself shaving. [My scalp, silly. Not my chin. My chin has never known a razor.] Wounded, see? Convalescent. Grapes and soup, oh yes.

This afternoon, I will mostly be alternating death housework and taxes. Get it all done at once, quick, before I start feeling better and/or more reluctant.