these are my bedroom eyes


Not really. What I mean is that I am tired. I am usually tired when I write this, as it’s usually more or less bedtime.

A summation of today:


got a bob

got thwarted by a locked steering wheel

talked about whether a leopard’s spots are hard-coded into the skin or if you shaved it the spots would disappear (still not sure, so thinking about googling ‘shaving leopards’ later)

got momentarily jolted by a 5.1 earthquake (momentarily thought that someone had driven into the building)

drove into the eye of a bomb scare (Featherston Street) but got diverted by the nice policeman in his fluoro get-up

tried to sleep through live comedy

got a hangnail that is now about an inch long and precariously attached due to compulsively but absentmindedly pulling at it

got given a present and a compliment, and from two entirely different people, for two entirely different reasons

heard that we all came from Africa once upon a time (it has just been discovered)

did a fancy trick with some HTML

got uncharacteristically carried away with ledgers

left work early

And that’s about it. Now drinking a white russian, shirking work, listening to the wind with the windows open. I wish there were more to report ( – actually – I don’t mean that at all – I’m just saying that) but there’s not.


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