Allergies, age, whatever. Left eye is unhappy. Gone are the days when I could function without a lens in it, alas, so either I read nothing today or I keep the eye drops handy.

Danger of funnel clouds forming today. Not in the downtown, I hope.

Rather an unlovely person who shows up in my FFLs is being loudly and plaintively unhappy all over the FFLs because no one understands their pain and no one will solve their dilemma for them and and and.  I hope people continue not to solve their dilemma for them because I am indulging in a rare-these-days episode of schadenfreude and couldn't be more pleased by this. In general quarantine has sweetened my soul amazingly.  I'm no longer chronically scratchy and itchy and downright furious at people in my immediate vicinity, which argues that I was never cut out for society in the first place and really should have become a contemplative nun-of-some-ilk. (Except that nuns live in communities that cause 'a martyrdom of pinpricks' and no one supports anchorites any more.) 

"But sometimes, sleeping in the open
I think back"-- to when I was active in fandom and daily incensed because Someone Is Wrong on the Internet. Revisiting the old neighbourhood, my hairdresser used to call it. 'But I realized I don't have to live there.'