The Hellish Handbasket

Somehow I've managed to divorce earning money from receiving money. It's as if the hose got disconnected from the faucet or somethin...

Poor old Google can't keep up. I'm opening and closing several web accounts using multiple log-on identities on two different comput...

My life is punctuated by drafts of proposals and dissertations that magically appear in my email inbox, demanding my editing skills. Compens...

I've been away from the blog for a while, immersed in life and not feeling energetic enough to share. The vertigo is destroying my front...

A friend dropped by briefly today. He laughed when he saw me. I thought that was odd, but didn't say anything. We concluded our business...

Events conspire to reinforce my belief that everything is going to hell in a stinky hand-basket. Planes. Mountains. Smithereens. Blown head ...

I may have mentioned that I've been editing dissertations to earn money. Although I'm happy to be earning, I am fairly certain this ...

I just finished editing and uploading some hapless doctoral student's wretched massive tome. Now I have a few minutes before The Walking...

I realized last night as I tried to fall asleep after watching back-to-back episodes of The Walking Dead on the re-run channel, few things g...

I surely should have my brain examined. Something funny is going on in there. I fear it's termites. I think if a curious surgeon happene...

My scrawny 85-year-old mother called me a few minutes ago. “Have you ever had a worse Thanksgiving meal?” she asked. I had just finished adm...

I'm back in editing hell, editing other people's crappy papers instead of my own. I should be grateful. I am getting paid for my eff...

When I am sitting like a blob at networking functions, or ripping along the freeway cursing out slow drivers, or picking cat hair out of my ...

This is the time of year when everything goes sideways. A lifetime of Septembers has left me with a vague sense of dread. What will I wear f...