if you're not prepared to look stupid, nothing great is ever gonna happen

    I haven't felt like writing much lately. The Photo Challenge took a lot out of me, both literally and emotionally; it was a surprisingly large amount of work to actually come up with three potential responses to some of those prompts, much less to actually locate the photographs (and to determine whether they were printed, scanned, or digital), and then to either pre-post into Blogger or save for easy uploading into Facebook each day. Some of it really was pretty easy, but many of those days required "answers" that were tough to reveal, or to explain, or to keep in perspective. By the end of August, I was heartily tired of the whole thing and just wanted a few days to reacquaint myself with solitude and privacy.

    Now I'm back, sort of, feeling a little more connected with the outside world, but still pretty introspective. Ulysses (a.k.a. the beautiful liar) has floated back into my consciousness, though for relatively similar borderline-nefarious purposes. Even if you're not a country fan, listen to the lyrics of this song [Toby Keith, "Hurt a Lot Worse When You Go"] and you'll understand where my brain is on this. Sort of. Some of the time.
    Also reading my first fantasy novel. Yes, you read that right: I've never read anything in the entire Fantasy genre before now. I'm a little over 500 pages into the 800+ page A Game of Thrones, by George R.R. Martin, and I can't believe how much I like it. I can't stand to put it down. I've done very little over the past few days except read, eat and sleep. And I'm dreaming about it. And thinking about it when I'm not reading.

    I don't know if it's the book, or the holiday, or the completely ridiculous frequency (and intensity) of headaches I've had over the past week or two, or the change in the weather, or this thing with U., but I feel...uneasy. Unsettled. Uncomfortable. Wrong. Twitchy, itchy, and anxious. Awkward. Indisposed. Awry. Whatever it is - if it is an it, and not just a way, for now or forever - it doesn't feel right, and I can't figure out how to make it that way. For now, I'm just trying to ride it out.

[the title quotation is from a season 2 episode of House, M.D., featuring Howard Hesseman. Johnny Fever is 71 years old, for the love of God.]