Still a bit groggy after a 0200 bodily-connected and bluetooth-enabled injected disc screamed OHMYFUCKYOURBLOODISLOW! from my arm to my phone but it was nothing that a few glucose tablets couldn't assuage. Weird dreams, though – usually the first tell-tale sign of an incoming phonescreech. Prior to the T1D and its brave new world of hypoglycemia, my strangest dreams came when I’d accidentally leave a nictotine patch on overnight (during one of my 11 quit attempts – the last one took, haven’t had a cigarette in ten years, go me / I still miss it every day); let me tell you, though, that the nicotine-patch dreams have NOTHING on the hypoglycemic dreams. NOTHING.

Last few days have made it clear that the time is nigh for me to turn my focus towards smaller projects (a third story is at the point where its disparate and far-flung modules are ready to be combined into something I hope is more than I had previously envisioned), clear out the backlog (final decisions on a non-fiction thing, among other thing-things), and rejuvinate my brain for the next deep dive into MainFictionThing: as it stands, the rhythmic potentialities are a muddle at best but I do, at least, have a general idea of where it's going – though no idea how to get there (which is how I prefer to work anyhow).

New MacroParentheticals tomorrow brings with it the first of the now newsletter-exclusive GROUND LOOPs (so I've got that going for me, which is nice).

Also: PEACEMAKER is fantastic; the day awaits.