Good morning. K has returned from plaguecamp and there is, as of yet, no plague in sight. 10-14 window of anxiety shifted forward with each passing days without end.

Burkeman's FOUR THOUSAND WEEKS has led me to shift The Comics Thing to the backburner. Simply too big to work with what I'm trying to work with; I'm not doing it––or The Main Thing––any favors by spreading the fictive brainspace thin; trying to keep to three main projects at once: The Main Thing, TSR/this space, and the NonFic/Comics Thing I want to explore, the latter being a potentially more beneficial––in numerous ways––path forward.

If anyone ever found my cardboard scrap / makeshift rulerthing I keep on my desk, they'd think I'd gone nuts, whatwith all those eights scrawled over it. Simple explanation, really: it's how I keep my Lamy 2000 nib from getting too scratchy: drawing figure eights on cardboard - or a paper bag - act as a sort of über-fine grain sandpaper to keep the nib smooth and less skippy.

The more you know. The day awaits; back to work.