Lone survivor? Or harbinger of doom?

Eat. Sleep. Write. Lose softball game due to my shitty pitching. Rinse, repeat, Quotables.

Could it be? I woke up today with nary a bite. It’s too early to declare the war won, but at the very least it’s a respite that will allow me to rest and recuperate and focus on other things. Like the softball playoffs, Tamara’s party, registry brunch at Bloomingdale’s, forming a doctoral dissertation reading committee, CADA proposal outline, St. Bede’s charity auction, faculty toast, TA duties, and finally, gearing up for a trip to Shanghai to visit my folks.

At the very least, maybe I won’t bring my fleas to them.

3 bites, in a small cluster, this morning. Tomorrow, the full effects of the ongoing chemical bombardment should be clear; was the enemy obliterated? Or only temporarily incapacitated, only to return and feed again? I hope the former. Oh, new Quotables, for realz.

Chemical warfare has begun.