When you’re sick and your brain can’t focus on something for more than a minute or two at a time, but you have moments of clear memories from a recent event and some make you feel warm and fuzzy but others poke at your heart like toothpicks checking to see if the muffins are ready…yeah, that’s me tonight. I was very optimistic when I arrived home at an entirely-too-late hour last night, not helping the laryngitis that morphed into something more debilitating only hours later. Perhaps it’s the fever speaking, but I’m much less confident than I was 20 hours ago. I think I’ll settle somewhere in the middle; let the overconfidence and the fear each rent some space. I wouldn’t argue that’s necessarily worked in the past, but it’s certainly been a recent pattern. So to the two people who read this blog other than myself as a log of many things I wouldn’t remember otherwise, be prepared for more vague bipolar posts. It’s like my new therapy.