I suppose we are at least spared peasoupers

Okay, I think jetlag has now officially hit. Came home from work and flat out napped, rather than virtuously getting on with various projects.

(I'm hoping it's jetlag rather than a post-visit cold or anything else along those lines.)

The weather isn't helping. It's been cold and grey and drizzly outside for the last couple of days, rather than that lovely New Hampshire sunshine. And it manages to be colder than New Hampshire (at the moment), even if we haven't got piles of snow and ice sitting around.

(Seasonal Affective Disorder, or just finding the weather depressing? Sometimes it's hard to find a difference between the two, however much you try to channel your Inner Shounen Protagonist.)

And I need to get new batteries for my camera. They ran out just as I had finished taking some photos but before I could upload anything to the computer. Drat.

---

Hence the cocaine. I cannot live without brain-work. What else is there to live for? Stand at the window here. Was ever such a dreary, dismal, unprofitable world? See how the yellow fog swirls down the street and drifts across the dun-coloured houses. What could be more hopelessly prosaic and material? What is the use of having powers, Doctor, when one has no field upon which to exert them? Crime is commonplace, existence is commonplace, and no qualities save those which are commonplace have any function upon earth.

-- Holmes, in The Sign of the Four, Doyle