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[opabinia]

(As in conTENT, not CONtent.)

I no longer feel as though not getting a 1969 Buick Skylark, a Japanese-red-maple-surrounded house with a four-car garage (I think it sprouts a new garage bay every time I fantasize), a couple of acres in the Cordillera Central, and a workshop full of hand- and power-tools, all within the next few months, is going to kill me.

Unfortunately, all my mental racing wore me out, and I crashed headlong into a nap when I got home from work. No Ceremony (despite the promising lineup), and no workout. Bad lepidosiren.