I am still quite swollen, but I managed to make it out of the house today for a few hours. I worked on this dang website for most of the day — cataloging archived images, one by one, month by month. And later, some typical, average, boring television/movie-watching. Brian, Carlos, Katie, and I watched "National Treasure," which is a national treasure. Then we watched a show about aliens (the ubiquitous Cosmic Egg). I ate pizza. The vision of the three of them on the couch — some sleeping, some eating, all quietly comfortable, half-wrapped in blankets, clutching onto pillows—was a tender sight, like a still from a film, or from a future episode of "Stranger Things."
I have many obligations I have not attended to, but I'll hopefully get on them all soon. I'm procrastinating. Why? Fear? An irrational inferiority complex? Laziness? I can only dream of an answer to my probelms.