I am still dizzy today. I have hopes that it's getting better, though. Part of that may be the relentless optimism I always have, but part may even be data interpretation.
It is Not Warm here. The hinges and locks are frosted over on the doors. Supposed to continue this way tomorrow, so I will probably wear a bulletproof sweater to go out. Seriously, if you've tried on a real Norwegian ski sweater, you'll know what I mean here: they're so heavy and so tightly knit that they really do feel like armor. In them I look too Scando for words. Wait! I always look like that! Well, it just emphasizes the fact that I always look that way, then.
Whenever people spend lots of time going on about how SF is rigorous and fantasy is any old thing, I want to mention that I have to find the time to read more group theory for my next fantasy novel, only I'm not sure that people who go on like that know that group theory is math. Also, I think that if you're going to go on about how rigorous SF is, you should expect much pointing and guffawing at the Bits O' Crazy in your own published work. Just in general theory, mind. I haven't the time for pointing and guffawing in specific myself just now.