Not that anything terribly exciting has been going on on them for the last two hours (it took me less than five minutes to catch up), but it beats staring at the inside of my own eyeballs.
I'm not sure if I ate something unusual, have come down with a slight case of something, or what, but my body is just refusing to get comfortable. It's disconcerting.
My brain's not really working well enough to do anything productive, and I probably shouldn't start playing computer games at half one in the morning. And the two books I'm in the middle of are both next to the bed, in the dark, near a sleeping Julie, so I'm not going to go rooting around for them.
Original post on Dreamwidth - there are comments there.