I know, I know: posting’s been erratic.

It’s a combination of summer, some things piling up, and a combination of physical therapy for a sore shoulder and ongoing dental work (I have to have another root canal). Unfortunately, I can no longer make myself believe that the traditional cure of “go out, get drunk, and blow off some steam that way” is going to even remotely work. Aside from everything else, I’m over fifty; I fear hangovers now.

My best guess on resolving this is that I have to put together an actual schedule, and stick to it. It’s the second part that’ll be tricky, of course.

Good thing I had ten hours’ sleep last night…

…because this morning I’ve been trying to get signed up to a site that would let me determine whether or not the federal government is in the process of screwing up administering the child tax credit that I did not actually request and would rather they not send me. No luck and no timely tech support; as I said on Twitter, ask me if I am surprised. That is a rhetorical question, naturally; for, Dear Reader, you already know that I am not.

Looks like Shar.es is down.

Which is going to make sharing links on Twitter and Facebook a pain until they fix their certificate.  Yay!  Let me see if there’s a workaround.

Moe Lane

PS: Yeah, go ahead and open thread it.  I didn’t have much, anyway.  Today wasn’t the best of days.

PPS: Nope, we’re back to manually updating Facebook and Twitter.  Huzzah!

Permit me to apologize in advance. [UPDATED.]

I am going to be simultaneously exasperated and apprehensive about something that I absolutely should not talk about – and that’s not an invitation to tease the information out of me, either. Half of the mistakes that get made in Dizzy City get made when somebody starts spouting off when he or she really should have known better. It never ends well, really.

This particular bit of foreknowledge should hopefully permit me to keep my mouth shut and my lid unflipped; but if I seem snappish for a few days that’s the reason why. It’s nobody’s fault here.  If I do become too snarly, let me know so that I can stop doing that.

[UPDATE: I can stand down. There’s still jackwagonry going on, but it will not have any actual direct, drastic effect on my family. So I can relax!  Yay….]