It's the sinus headache time of year. I can't think. There are gremlins inside my brain with hammers and tongs and pickaxes and shovels. None of them are in there doing any thinking for me, obviously.
But it is extravagantly beautiful outside. Michigan is the gateway to hell until May, and then it is the portal to heaven.
I'm crazy-busy with the new semester start-up, and of course there are glitches with textbooks and so forth. I seem to have misplaced one of my textbooks, and in looking for it, I've scattered books everywhere. It will turn up soon, without doubt. Meanwhile, I've got my notes.
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