Fried

My mind is awash with fuzz and noise as I stare blankly after a week of almost non-stop work, give or take some time in the gym designed to make my morphology less Christmas turkey/man combo. Calculations are sinusoidal with moments of clarity from the peaks and confusion in the troughs. The weekend should bring a wave of therapeutic kimchi making which will both bring wonderful wafts of chili and ginger to my flat and provide an accompanying dinnertime buzz for the next few weeks. Lectures on N=2 gauge theories have been beautiful and the absence of enough time to study such things is a sad indictment of our cosmology. In the meanwhile three separate seminar groups have been born, ranging from the vintage to the general to the modern hep-th of which I have taken charge of at least two.

Now my brain is asking for respite and I'll leave you until another week inflates ahead of us.