The end is effing nigh

Let’s review all the signs of the end-times, now that I’ve reminded you of the (censored version of) the most hilarious text you’ll find in 28 Days Later:

1) Brent has become markedly more extroverted. Chatty, almost. The last time I was this extroverted was back in early 2000, suggesting a six-year cycle to my extroversion. Indeed, now that I’ve spent more than a microsecond thinking about this, I also note that I was at my most introverted when I started this blog—back in 2003. Coincidence, or infradian rhythm?

2) Brent danced with reckless abandon. I’ve never—until last night—gone to a dance or practice thinking I’m just going to dance as much as possible, with as many people as possible. That’s pretty much the antithesis of the “Wallflower School of Dance,” which I founded back in 1999.

3) Brent updated his sidebar rotation for the first time in forever. This has only been on my to-do list for the last three months; with any luck some other long-standing to-do items might see progress in the near future. I actually feel like I have energy to take on projects, again.

If this isn’t the end times, then at least we know that the virus has spread to my brain.

 

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