January 2nd, 2013

hiroshige: foxfires on musashino

(no subject)

Watching an episode of Sherlock before bed leads to dreaming about Sherlock. It also means that before going to sleep my head was full of Sherlock, instead of stuff like oh you know work, and annoyance at having to be up early yet again, and the rabid attacks of spleen I've been having since Christmas, however well I managed to dodge them before then. All this is good, especially since The Hounds of Baskerville was not one of the best eps IMHO.

Spleen has been segueing inexorably into anxiety tingles, but anxiety tingles have been yielding to tiredness and aches. I fancy I'm merely sick. Or possibly exhausted from walking in boots on snow; I can't see me being either tired or anxious if I was in shoes on dry sidewalks as I was so happily a ten-day ago.