Thursday, March 4 2021

Dear Journal,

Good morning, everyone. Happy Wednesday. The house is warm this morning - unbearably warm. I can tell the weather is finally fully turning on account of the sensation that our living room feels like a tropical rain forest. It was so warm in our bedroom last night, Marissa and I had trouble falling right to sleep. Seasons are lovely and all, but when it comes to heating and cooling our house, the transitions really suck. I think it might be time to shut off the heat and AC all together and just wrap up in a hoodie tonight.

I know you have all just been on pins and needles, waiting for a Thinkpad nipple update. I'm pleased to report that everything is working again. The nipple is back at full strength. Sure enough, it was the software. The discovery was made in about ten seconds after I booted off of a little thumb drive. So I left the thumb drive in while I reinstalled everything.

I also found a brilliant multi-tasking hack. I discovered last night that my little writing laptop fits perfectly on the handle bars of our stationary bike. It fits so well, you'd think that the bike was meant to be a laptop stand. Do you want to know what nerd nirvana looks like? It's installing debian, watching King of the Hill re-runs, and riding a bike that goes nowhere in the comfort of our living room. And because I tend to really zone out whenever I use a computer, I pretty much forgot that I was riding the bike. I accidentally stayed on an extra five minutes while re-configuring my laptop.

"I'm jealous," said Marissa. "The bike has already gotten boring and I hate it." It's getting warm outside now, so Marissa will probably go back to running outside with the lake, the sunshine, and the fresh air. Pish - I'd rather just bike in place with my Thinkpad.

Sip. So happy Thursday. Just two more crummy little work days before the weekend. One, if you think about it. You've already woken up this morning, so the hardest part is done.

We have some new citizens of the family reef tank to introduce to you. Marissa found a new coral dealer on the other side of town. She masked up and met with a coral expert in-person. I could tell she got a lot out of the appointment. People at regular pet stores are knowledgeable, but they're still generalist, so the meeting gave her a chance to really dive deep - pun intended, I earned that one.

She returned with a bounty of new bagged up slimy friends. As is tradition in this home, we called upon Rodney's oracle-like ability to come up with the perfect coral names.

This is Coco.

Coco is a little sick looking right now because he was just trimmed. We were warned that Coco will probably look a little sickly for a week or two. He looks so pitiful flopped over on his side tied to that rock, but in time those branches will look like big beefy body builder arms.

Then we have Kaner.

To the untrained eye, Kaner looks like a twig - a hockey stick to belabor his likely namesake. Maybe he even looks like something sitting in your Grandmother's potpourri bowl, but he's not a hockey stick nor potpourri. He's a living creature with his own dreams and ambitions. When he gets happy, those little hairs open up. At the moment, he is also tied down to a rock, but in time he'll make that rock his own.

This is Seepole.

Nobody knows where Seepole got her name from. The word was first uttered by Rodney, and to understand what it means or where it came from, you'd have to delve into the Dr. Seussian recesses of his four year old brain. In fact this is the first time Seepole has ever been spelled out, so even the spelling needed some interpretation on my part. Seepole is a tiny and glamorous coral. This photo of her was taken a few days ago, and she has since been moved to the sandy floor of the tank by Marissa. At least I hope so - either Marissa moved Seepole, or Seepole has a mind of her own.

It was a big day for Rodney. His remote control dinosaur finally came in the mail. When the package arrived, I could hear him squealing from upstairs in my bedroom office. I had never heard his voice crack or his tiny lungs squeal like that.

What the hell is a remote control dinosaur? It's exactly what it sounds like. It's just a brown T-Rex which Rodney can walk and roar via a little plastic remote control. He scampered up the stairs to show me. As he was preparing his demo, the plastic tail fell off, revealing a long white wire.

"OPE - tail fell off," said Rodney, taking it in stride. He stuck it back on and commanded the dinosaur to life. It twitched and rocked, filling our bedroom with a high pitched electronic roar.

That roar would fill the house for the rest of the day. I heard that roar while making his lunch, during his quiet time, after dinner, all the way up until bedtime. Roar.

Marissa took a shift in the kitchen for dinner. She made baked chicken on rice, and it was even more delicious because my appetizer was an hour long nap upstairs before dinner. It was a great day.

Thanks for stopping by today. Have a great Thursday, everyone.