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la nuit et la cecite

I left work last night at 2 am, went to bed by 3:30, and woke up at 6:00 to be at work at 7:30 to prepare for my meeting with my boss at 10 (in practice, 11:45). This is the 3rd or 4th time this week I've left work after 1 am.




Do you believe in god or some kind of magic? I usually don't have any sort of superstitions; about 95% of the time I'm in control of myself and things make sense enough that I don't need to presuppose a supernature to explain what's going on. But sometimes, things happen that seem so unlikely that I think only the presence of an neglectful or malevolent god can explain them and so I believe that there is a god and he is purposefully interposing against me. I suppose logically that should feed an ego but I certainly don't feel more important from the judgement.


I really hate playing video games with furries, for myriad well-founded reasons. I'm still trying to find a few servers without lying player-counts or douche benefits for donators or 3-minute patch downloads. Also it would be nice if I didn't such so much.

I found an audio tape from my great-grandmother over Xmas, which I brought back with me. I asked for a Behringer USB recording interface for a gift and am waiting for it to be in-stock for me to get, but it'll allow me to digitize these kinds of tapes w/o all the god-awful background hiss that'd come if I just line-in'd the thing to Garage Band. We used to record audiotapes for her to listen to, since she lived a state away in an assisted-living place for blind seniors, and she would respond in-kind with an outdated recorder on over-dubbed gospel radio cassettes.

I only have the one but it's better than nothing. There's a kind of blindness I endure and don't talk about a lot, but it's there and it gets worse every year, in which my vision is increasingly intermixed with pixelations as if old TV-snow were overlayed onto my field of view, and I know that if I don't die too early I might end up as blind as my great-grandmother.

I'll never have great-grandchildren but I wonder sometimes about if it'd be worth making tapes of me for my family to listen to on long car trips, talking about nothing in particular, for similar reasons to why our car-phone answering voicemail had my dad's voice for 5 years after he stopped answering the phone.

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