A year and a week, to be exact. A year and a week, and one more day for leap year.
It would be useful if I had a good explanation for my absence here and in my research, but exhaustion and anxiety aren’t very good explanations for anything, really, are they? Or, perhaps, particularly in this year of the ‘Rona, they are too common an explanation for too many things.
Lacking said explanation I will count the past as past, pull up my metaphorical socks and move on.
Unrelated: a picture of supermarket-bought birthday cake. I turned 48 last month; it feels oddly younger than I have a right to be.
(2+2) equals the wind 