|11:35 am - a barometer in my old age|
Either there is a storm coming in or I've got the ague. Or it's a medication side effect. In any case I'm uncomfortable, and so I complain. If I had a lawn, I'd tell you kids to get off it.
On the up side, I'm liking my new phone. Learning to curse autocorrect, which seems to manage to swap things even after I've proofread and hit 'send'. Really, who uses devoured more than decide? That was the last egregiously nonsensical substitution it snuck into a text.
Facebook is essentially unusable for me after this last round of changes; I haven't closed my account but I just don't bother to check it as it refuses to show me stuff from people I'm interested in beyond telling me they like this product or spewing a random comment. If FB happens to be your primary way to keep in touch with me, we should find another avenue of connection because I'm likely to be shuttering things in the not too distant future. I'll probably keep some sort of shell presence, but it's not a place to reach me with any alacrity. Honestly, this paragraph may be spitting into the wind, since I don't know for certain it will even show on FB as a note per usual, any more.