Your leaking thatched hut during the restoration of a pre-Enlightenment state.

 

Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").



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   spontaneous foot complaint
Wednesday, February 1 2017
Today in the remote workplace was relatively relaxed. It was so relaxed, in fact, that I got a chance to add a nifty feature (and assorted improvements) to the reporting system that had been eating at me for about a week.
There had been a couple inches of snow last night, so I actually got some exercise today shoveling out a smallish ridge of it left along the edge of Dug Hill Road by the snow plow. (Though that didn't end up being as much exercise as I've been getting per day from working on the basement library project.)
By this evening, I'd developed a mysterious pain inside my right foot. It felt like something was wrong in a joint or with a tendon. It didn't affect me when sitting still, but it made descending a staircase something best left for a Dadaist nude. I couldn't think of anything I'd done to cause the issue, so perhaps it's just one of those things related to aging. If so, it'll go away in a few days and not come back for a decade (if I'm lucky). I've had similar mysterious (and spontaneously disappearing) complaints since my early 30, starting with the spontaneous testicular issues that made visiting the Getty such an ordeal.


For linking purposes this article's URL is:
http://asecular.com/blog.php?170201

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