a wolf angel is not a good angel

This week I had to come up with a set like Silver/Gold/Platinum for three levels of a product, where all the levels had to be good, and the names had to be positive. And entirely culture-neutral, so no place names, no continent names, no Norse gods. This was enjoyable, and I’m pleased with the choices we ended up with, but what was far more fun was coming up with completely inappropriate sets. Mostly they were religiously themed. I liked Father / Son / Holy Ghost, and various levels of hell were appealing, but it’s hard to choose just three.

But in random looking about, I came upon a list of the seas of the moon, and decided to blog under their names, one a day, until I either finish them or get bored.

All I want to do, all day long, is sleep. (I fell asleep on the 15 minute bus ride today, woke up a few stops before mine, and kept dozing off as the bus moved very very slowly uphill. I really wanted to just stay on the bus and sleep.) All I want to do, all night long, is anything but sleep.

I was too tired to uncover my car this evening, and I know that tomorrow morning, I will bitterly regret having waited.

Matilda likes to sleep under the bathtub, and all the wet catfood in a can of her favourite kind of food won’t tempt her out. Perverse thing. She’ll appear at about 3 in the morning, because it’s best to be friendly in the inconvenient hours.

Among the dreams I had last night, I dreamed I slept late and then went to a museum. And lo and behold, I slept late. I am only just barely awake now, and I’m still late, and I’m online.

This is not the ideal morning plan.

So, to continue with my litany of illness-related woes, I have this sort of persistent not quite stomach ache. I don’t really know what it is, though it tends to be responsive to Advil (and not Tylenol). It doesn’t make me feel nauseated, though I think it makes me less hungry. It is unpleasant.

I would go to sleep now, but I’m all caught up in thinking about what this is or means, and pressing on various spots on my belly to see if it has an effect. It doesn’t.

test

I am debating resolving to be less secretive this year, but I really doubt if I can manage that. It’s so ingrained — and I have no idea, anymore, what I’m worried about if I don’t keep secrets, but just in case, I’ll never tell anyone anything.

This serves me about as well as one might expect.

I’ve decided I’m going to try to post daily again, because I think it helps my mental health. There is at least a correlation, and though I’m pretty sure the causation goes the other way, it’s worth a shot. And as resolutions go, it’s a pretty easy one.

Of course, I don’t have much to say. I suppose I could try using my camera more regularly, but the problem is that I got a camera about a year ago to replace the one I loved, and I sort of hate my new camera. Arguably that’s just a crappy excuse, but it’s mine and I like it.

Here’s to more to talk about tomorrow.

Whether your 2007 has been wonderful or terrible, here’s to a better 2008.

Hello, Australians who read my blog! I am glad you enjoyed the no-knead bread which, alas, I cannot take credit for, as I got the recipe from the NYT. But it is indeed a lovely crusty bread and if I weren’t lazy as all get out, I might make it again.

Forgot to post yesterday. Well, I wrote twice the day before. Maybe again today. Not like I have anything to say. I ran out of interesting musings on depression ages ago. Now I’m just depressed.