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Busy Lunatic.

Acquired bus card. Got trail mix for at least a halfhearted stab at the "snacks that are not actively bad for you" concept. Realized that the action of the buses put me closer to the library than I thought I'd be. Detoured through a book store and a comic shop. Returned a brace of read library books and an unread third part of a trilogy that I don't know where the middle of is. Got stalled in the middle of a school library trip involving very many just slightly post-toddlers and very bright rainbow lanyards. Went to Willow House. I was late for the NaNoWriMo meetup, and only jetpack_monkey and an associate remained. After they left, I stayed there a little longer, scribbled some, and went back home.

I've hit a point where I'm utterly convinced that there's something more important I need to be doing. I know what that is, but I'm not sure how to go about it.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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