I noticed a curious absence of daylogs for today, and being the ignorant newbie I am, I presume to fill the void with my day's ramble.
It occurs to me that there are few things as unpleasant as not being able to see. For those who care to continue reading, I am essentially night-blind. Below a certain luminance (far above the norm for a human of my age and health), I can't see anything, not even vague outlines of objects and people. This rarely presents me with any real problems, because I have had a very long time to be accustomed to using my ears and fingertips as 'eyes' at night... but tonight was different.
The overhead light in my kitchen died while I was going to fetch a glass of water before bed. I had used a glass earlier for the same purpose, and of a wish not to wash one more unnecessary dish, I had left it sitting on the back of the counter. I grabbed it blindly, cranked the tap until the hiss of water grew high-pitched in the way that means the glass is almost full, and took a long, deep swig...
...until I smelled formic acid.
Oh, dear.
I picked my way delicately back to my bedroom, the only room in the house where a light was currently on, and sure enough, the glass had several small black ants swarming over it. At some point, if I did not swallow any, then at the very least I squished one under my hand while lifting the glass. That was the source of the formic acid stink.
I'll say this for ants: they're cool little critters, as long as they stay off my food and aren't biting me. I try not to kill them if I don't have to kill them, and in fact at this very moment a small platoon of them is criss-crossing my laptop screen. I'm not going to do anything to harm them; the ones that get on my skin are flicked off in a fairly benign manner.
This doesn't mean I like drinking ants with my water. Eiichhh.
Funny thing, six years ago that would have had me shrieking and spazzing out. Now it's more a vague reaction of "huh...well, it's not a big enough dose to kill me, and maybe I got a microgramme of protein from the little buggy."
In other news, this evening I managed to acquire a second degree burn on my right hand, after a small fiasco involving macaroni and cheese. I'm cheerfully on the mend; I hadn't burnt myself (except sunburns) since I was three years old, so I'm pleased to have lasted so long with no significant displays of clumsiness in the presence of heat.
As I write this, I am alternating windows between E2 and gmail, discussing possible career options for my fiance, and I have a feeling that he is going to do or be something seriously phenomenal... if I can keep him motivated to whichever set of ideals he finally chooses.