It's back to the grind today. After getting an impressive amount of reading done while visiting K.'s family (an entire in article in Czech without the help of a dictionary and some more stuff in English, most of which sucked), I'm now faced with actually having to write my research-grant proposal and I don't think the screeners want to hear about my desire to simply dink around the archives and improve my language skills by going out for beer. At least I can say that next to nobody does what I'm going to do. That should merit some funding.

The demon in the kitchen drain has started spewing and it is nasty. It smells like sewage and looks like toilet paper and garlic cloves. The landlord will have to be called. He did leave us a nice bottle of wine for Christmas, however. I think that we're his favorites. Maybe not after this, though.

There will be no resolutions. Actually, I have one, but I'm not going to share it. You'll have to watch me this year and guess what it is. ;-)

The paragraphs are getting shorter, which means that I have nothing to say, which means: back to the proposal. -Zh.


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