It might be a blerg.
It might be Cyber-Hibernation. Except people with opinions stopped using “cyber-” non-ironically before this particular blog even barely got started.
I might be blognating. Like stagnating. Hm. Nah, if you have to clarify, it’s not going to happen.
Anybody? Leave suggestions in the comments. I’ll check them in 2019.
At work, at the end of every single conversation, I find myself saying “Thanks, sorry.” It might be useful to have that as a tattoo. I’ve even considered having “Thanks!” on the knuckles of one hand, and “Sorry…” on the other, like Robert Mitchum in Night of the Hunter. (I’d use the spaces between the knuckles, too.) Then I could say, y’know, whatever: “Can you make the client revisions by 2:00 o’clock?” and then just present each fist, left, right.
It’s supposed to return mid-2061. I’ll be in my late 90s. So that’s my goal: to see Halley’s Comet. Or have it described to me. And if I say that to enough people who outlast me, even if I don’t make it, at least they might say, “Well, too bad ol’ Charlie didn’t make it to see Halley’s Comet return. I guess he did hate to exercise and liked to eat a lot cheese, didn’t he?”
I currently own more books than I can expect to read in my lifetime, and yet I do not own all the books I would like to have read.