Life, continued.

It is approaching midnight on a Wednesday evening, and I am in my favorite chair in my office. On the table to my right are a glass containing several ounces of inexpensive but delicious VSOP Cognac, a bowl of caramel-something-something gelato, and a possibly chambered, definitely cocked Springfield 1911. Hans is curled up near the door, asleep but vaguely alert for would-be gelato thieves. Tomorrow is a day off.

My days off are invariably busier than my most infuriating days on, and tomorrow is no exception; it begins at 0700 with a pot of coffee and a trip to the outdoor archery range to finalize my zero and double check that there is no fuckery afoot with my Mathews compound. Bow season for elk began statewide last weekend. It begins for me at around 1400 Friday and continues until either I shoot one or the actual season ends, whichever comes first. Regardless, I am excited to be wandering around the woods in camouflage and looking for wapiti. I literally cannot remember the last time I went archery hunting for elk.

Life otherwise has been something of a roller coaster lately. School is doing a pretty good job of keeping me distracted from the important shit, for better or worse. The perpetual fluctuation of my tolerance for human stupidity is currently at the lowest of tides - I nearly lost it the other day on an inexplicably uncooperative lab partner of mine who simply insisted on making my life difficult for no reason. Honestly, I'm willing to tolerate incompetence to an extent if the person is somewhat nice, or even just reasonable, but to be just rabidly incompetent, and then be a fucking twat about it, is a flip-shittable offense.

I've been riding the absolute hell out of the crotch rocket lately, and definitely am getting a lot more comfortable at high velocities and shallow angles, perhaps to an unreasonable extent - I haven't felt my pulse climb in awhile, and I've been going pretty fucking hard. No real comment about that. She's getting a few upgrades here in the coming weeks so I'll try to put up a few pictures. Long term, the CBR has impressed the crap out of me in general. I barely drive anything else if the weather is even approaching acceptable for being on the bike.

Well, as often happens when I write these things, I find myself hitting an energy wall. It seems that putting words into text significantly relaxes me... what an odd phenomenon. Will report back when there's another dead elk in the freezer or I have something more important to say, whichever comes first. Adios.