Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

"It's bad civic hygiene to build an infrastructure that can be used to facilitate a police state." -- Bruce Schneier, CTO of Counterpane Internet Security, "Fingerprinting Visitors Won't Offer Security", Newsday.com, 2004-01-14. (Thanks to redbird for pointing it out.)

It's official; today is a fibro-fog day. :-(

Not as awake as I thought I was. I keep starting comments and cancelling them halfway through, either because I suddenly decide that what I had to say wasn't important enough to post, or because what I want to say is important enough but just isn't coming out right today. Woke up enough to be hungry and made myself an omelette/frittata thing with broccoli in it, and ran upstairs to eat it in front of the computer ... noticed that the office was a little smoky and figured it was the cheese that had dripped in the toaster-oven a few days ago that burns off a little bit more each time I make toast. Then the fire alarm went off and I realized it was something else -- I'd turned off the wrong burner when I finished cooking my eggs. So now I'm trying to decide which bothers me more, the idea of letting the smoke take a long time to settle and having the house smell funny for a while, or the idea of opening windows in this weather and letting out what warmth I've built up in the house.

I'd finally fixed the coating on my cast iron skillet from the last time I screwed it up. Now to find out how badly I've messed it up this time.

Hmm. while looking for a web page that might explain/define "fibro-fog" for folks not already familiar with the term, I ran across this page which apparently explains why the HMO neurologist who examined me years ago after I complained about cognitive impairment and short-term memory problems said I had nothing to complain about. Unfortunately, I'm not clear-headed enough today to absorb all of it, so I'll try reading it again tonight or tomorrow.

Anyhow, here's a more concise definition-style description of fibro-fog. The first link I gave is more of a "what it's like to experience" page in the form of "I can't believe I did that" stories. This one's more clinical.

Dammit, I've got stuff I need to do this week, and I'm running out of week.

Going to bed was the right idea. Getting up again to look for AA batteries for the portable CD player so I could listen to the "base" recording (a "scratch" recording of the whole band so the first people to record a real track on a tune have something to listen to and play off of) as I fell asleep may have been a bad idea. Perrine followed me downstairs and started playing peek-a-boo among the guitar cases. As I was stepping over something and around something else, she darted under my foot. I noticed my foot coming down directly on her fuzzy little head and managed to reverse my momentum, but I torqued something inside my left foot, twisted my left knee, wrenched my right hand, and banged my right forearm on a container (which I need to check later to see whether I broke). Ow ow ow fucking ow. But at least the harm to the cat was limited to a good startling. Certainly scared the Hell out of me. I don't think any of my injuries are severe enough to impair me tonight, but I'm nervous about the foot, which seems to be the worst, and I'm having a little trouble with the ring finger and pinkie on my right hand. I hope that keeping my various parts warm for a few hours will sort things out. In the meantime it's all rather uncomfortable and making me even more whiny than I was an hour ago. And I didn't find the batteries yet. Back to bed.

On a cheerier, or at least less-whiny note: Before trying to go to bed the first time, I wandered upstairs to try something on the piano first. And I noticed the sky over south Baltimore out my back window ... blue over the harbour, overcast over Catonsville and in the direction of Columbia (not exactly sure where Columbia is in relation to the horizon from my house), with neatly arranged little white puffballs graduated between the clear and the overcast. It reminded me of one of M.C. Escher's morphing tessellations, or even more, it reminded me of the Charles Adams cartoon showing sheep on a hill neatly transitioning to clouds at the horizon.

Okay, back to bed, batteries or no batteries. I'm writing off this day and, like yesterday, am just going to concentrate on trying to be well enough to go to rehearsal tonight.