Brain Mud
I know the quantity of my posts has slacked off somewhat lately.
Once again: work cuts a hole in my whole day.
Actually, in real estate, one’s work is as likely to cut a hole well into one’s evening instead, sometimes leaving your days pretty laid back to catch up on paperwork. Last night was a personal record, I think, as I was still talking to a buyer and working on an offer at 10:45 PM.
Usually I get to knock off by 9:30 PM at the latest. Piece of cake.
This is my story and I’m sticking to it: my brain is mud not because it’s congenitally muddy, but because of the deleterious influence of work.
It’s so muddy that there are no Web 2.0 bells and whistles here. It was darned charitable of Kevin Boer to link to me and use me in an example, especially because I’m the second least likely guy I can think of to add Criteo’s Autoroll to my site. I’m still pretty much a dinosaur, albeit a rather modern one. From the late cretaceous, maybe. (I’m sure my daughter would be happy to learn I’m taking an interest.)
There’s hardly any Javascript here, if any. Much less any Ajax. When I visit a MyBlogLog enabled site, I appear there as an annonymous black head. (No, not an anonymous blackhead — that would be worse — watch those spaces).
Once in awhile I need to discuss the mud that my thinking has turned into, by way of cleansing it, turning the back porch hose back on the anonymous black head and washing it off, so to speak.
To coin a phrase.
Do I dare to go back for thirds? Sure: as it were.
In a few days it’ll be April, so I can set loose my muddy brain to a task that won’t overload its sedimentary sensibilities: teasing out the data from March.
Meantime if any bright sparkle of intelligence filters down into the muddy deeps, I’ll be sure to share it.
I’m not greedy.
