I did not pick a fight with T—. I did not slap C—– senseless. I deserve a gold star.
Ran myself utterly ragged, which needs to stop tout de suite. I cannot shut off my introspections by surrounding myself with those who need me. (And there are plenty of folks who need me.)
Fewer there than you suppose. You would like to think there are more. You will not know what it’s like to be needed until you join the SCA.
Met Eaglet for coffee/tea/raspberry Italian sodas at 3:30, which did my soul quite some good, given that T— was holding court nearer my pet editing spot than is strictly comfortable. He’s a nice man, but he’s got no sense of propriety — something for which he suffers no consequences. Guess who does?
— Ranting again. Bad Mari. No cookie.
Meanwhile, someone I previously thought quite sensible has turned out to be an anti-vaccination nutjob. Has he no concept of public or community health? You might sympathise, Professor, as a tracker of disease across nine counties. Seriously, have the anti-vaccers forgotten polio? Diphtheria? Smallpox? Maybe they have. That’s a real pity.
Ooh, who was this person?!
Don Francis must be gnashing his teeth.
I wonder, even now…