Gluwein season is here. Hurrah! I got moderately drunk beneath a cold clear sky this weekend. I was supposed to be working on a presentation for Friday (which is now tomorrow and I am still not done). Instead, I decided to wander. This is how I discovered the gluwein kiosk run by a very Bavarian looking woman with a Yorkshire accent playing Um-pah music. It was part of an international festival which was predominately French baked goods and Dutch tulips. I sat there with a friend for most of the day trading office gossip (Did you hear? S. told D. that she wasn’t going to speak to M. because he is black and voted republican.) Afterwards, we continued at a pub and then back at the flat. Not a bad day of procrastination. Now, I am typing the story to procrastinate further. I have managed to write a pirate joke into the presentation.

Q: What is a pirate’s favourite type of dialogue?
A: Aaarrrgumenation.

Can you see why I am procrastinating?

Enlightenment was a disappointment to Jonathan. It came early one morning upon his awakening. The solutions to all of life’s mysteries lay before his mind’s eye like a child’s drawing. It seemed simple, poorly constructed, and irrelevant to his life as a mortal, although, that morning’s first cup of coffee and every cup since has been an indescribable sensual pleasure.

Apparently, it is pronounced "Albeeno".

Winter has arrived wearing gale winds that pull the breath from you and put an ache in your fingers. This year I am not willing to play along with winter's shenanigans. I am stubbornly refusing to add layers to my wardrobe. Yet, this morning the weather's tactic of attrition is being to show results. Undershirt, long sleeve shirt, and military surplus wool sweater. BUT, I refuse to wear gloves or long johns until November, damnit! Right now it is taunting this declaration by slapping hard against the window and shoving clouds around like billiard balls.