I’m moving to Tennessee, marrying muh Amy, and starting what should hopefully be my last leg of grad school.
But I’m not going to talk about any of that.
Instead, let’s discuss the fact that over the past two days I’ve managed to cut my tongue on an envelope, my foot on a tiny shard of glass, and my finger on . . . an ice cube. I really don’t understand it either.
Additionally, my TMJ has learned a new trick. Instead of locking up and painfully popping, I now get to enjoy a kind of crackling noise in my right ear when I yawn or sneeze. ‘Tis strange.
Finally, I received this morning an email to a Mr. C. Van der Heijden. Mr. Van der Heijden had apparently mistakenly thought that he owned the email address firstname.lastname@example.org. He does not however; it is mine. The missive was in Dutch, which I unfortunately do not read or speak; however I can comment that the Google Translate service has made impressive strides in the past few years.
Hope all is well, beware of ice cubes.