oog

So far this has been a year of sick. uilos picked up some kind of sinus infection around about the time the ball dropped, and just when she seemed to be getting over it yesterday it came and whacked me upside the head. I came home early and "napped" for two and a half hours, and then slept another nine or so last night.

Breathing isn't so easy. Neither is focusing on things. I can write this, because it's mostly meandering-stream-of-consciousness and because I can leave it alone for an hour or so and zone out looking at something else. I shudder to think what I'd do to the System Administration Guide if I were at work. I suspect tomorrow I'll be staying home as well, or maybe going in for a half day or something.

Finished Iorich, which was good stuff; feels like Yendi or Orca but more. . . thematically coherent, I guess, than either of those two. Also finished Lucifer, which. . . is not as good as Sandman, as I recall. (I believe this is known as "praising with faint damns.") It's really really big in scope, which to me too often means that the small things get overshadowed, or contrariwise seem a lot more important than they might be just because of their association with the big things. Am I making any sense? I'm probably not making any sense. I mean, mostly it was all very well done, well written, with art that at its best emphasized the story and at its worst didn't detract from the action. I'm just not so taken by stories that set out to destroy the world anymore, I guess.

It definitely had its amazing moments. Like Mazikeen's parting words to the former Lightbringer:

You think that walking away from your life makes you free, my lord?
That you can be born again so easily? . . .
The past made us, Lucifer. It continues to make us.
Travelling light doesn't change your origin. Or your destination.

I lack the brain to process such things properly right now.