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Phage

My skin irritation has me feeling like a Vidiian from Star Trek: Voyager. I know there are worse things, but I don't recall any of them ever taking up residence on my face and scalp (among other places).

Radiohead has given way to live piano music. I wish there were wireless internet access at Victrola; I'd love to surf and communicate while I'm here.

My first real conflict with Staff Meeting next Monday: an unexpected ghost from my past is coming to town, according to the papers. I'm not sure what I'm called to anymore, which life, what present and future. Hard to consider, nearly impossible to explain or understand.

We won't see the sun today.

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