Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)
Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.
This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
I'm not sure--it could be the decongestant...
...but I have been having some quite odd dreams the past few nights. One last night involved a grizzly bear, and for some reason I was outside in the yard, and was trying to not make a whole lot of noise so the bear wouldn't find me. And then other stuff happened involving several people who I was supposed to know, but didn't, who were all looking around inside an apartment building that was really a house trailer, and then I found myself in the copier room here at work, trying to fix a paper jam.
It wouldn't be so bad, but I can't remember enough of the details of them for them to be really interesting. And there are no nubile Scandinavian women, either.
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