Ya know….

When you’re (me, I’m talking about ME right now) no longer a mere strippling of 50 (practically a teenager!), recovery from noggin-tumor excavation surgery can be a bit of a grind. In fact, it can be downright onerous.

I spent more than ten straight days laying out flat in bed, alternating between napping and staring at the ceiling. Oh and there were all those glorious hours of watching the numbers on my digital clock twitch over. 

I mean, have you truly experienced life in all its wonders if you've never watched your clock flip from 10PM clear through to 4AM before? Somewhere in all those passing hours, a meditative state can be found. Theoretically anyway.

Given that I spent the vast bulk of my entire working life in the print industry, maybe it’ll come as no surprise that the chronograph’s kerning (the spacing between individual letters or characters) was annoying the fuck clean outta me.

Yeah…bored now. Also angry. When you’ve all the time in the world but zero good, gripping reads (AND you can’t focus your eyes on the damn Kindle for more than five minutes at a time anyway) pretty much everything’s gonna piss you off (ME…okay? It’s ME who’s gonna be pissed off about everything).

Possibly this hair-trigger-anger thing is just me.