Not very much excitement around here of late. I've re-entered the Thursday Next universe, pulp fiction for English geeks, but already I can see the end of that tunnel.

(Neophytes should start with Jane Eyre, then read The Eyre Affair. That would be my recommendation, but I have a decent British lit background and found that to be enough for The Eyre Affair.)

Work continues. I slept well past noon today, but during the week I've been trying to become a true morning person and get up an hour before work and eat breakfast and all that. The results have been mixed, though not so much as to make me feel like A Terrible Person.

I've been unusually tense recently — readers with the proper security clearance can probably divine why — and I expect to be tense for a few weeks yet. My moods after that point have yet to be decided upon.

The tension would be worse if not for a recent breakthrough, made in a much longer section of this post I've since redacted: Having once been a bit of a pompous ass, and then some other things, and finally me, I find that I like myself much better now, neurotic conscientiousness and chuckling and knee-jerk self-deprecating humor and all.

However, after... inexplicably... developing an aversion to argument during college, I've become out of habit at standing up for myself, which has in turn made me easily frustrated with people. Because while I am introverted, boldly so, I'm not constitutionally meek. And however good-natured and patient I think I've become, I'm not forgiving enough to be taking so much crap so often.

Not from you, dear reader. I'm talking about other people.

So hurrah for that. Though the fact that I could come to such a conclusion while blogging is a clue that I need to be journaling more.