Howard Hughes and 7.5 Hours
Yeah, so...a sunny morning. An overcast afternoon. The high was 86˚F, with the heat index at 89˚F - which is, as it happens, the current temperature.
I remember a time when one thing we could largely agree on was rooting for and taking pride in American Olympic athletes. ~ Dan Rather, today
My doctor upped my Gabepentin dose, and so I slept last night. 7.5 solid hours, virtually unheard of. At since I lower my Gabepentin dose. The shit keeps me from having seizures, it controls my anxiety, it helps the bipolar, controls my nightmares, and it makes me sleep. But it has serious cognitive side effects, and I try to keep the dose minimal. I cannot write fiction on high doses. I cannot do science on high doses.
Most doctors do not warn their patients of the hazards of Gabepentin, because a lotta doctors do not really understand the drugs they prescribe. Then again, if absolutely everything I did wasn't based of thinking clearly, it would not be such an issue.
Toady I mostly worked on one of the Winifred Blocks (see photo), but also had email with Bill Schafer and with my agent Rebecca Eskildsen. The latter, Blackstone Publishing was trying to get me to agree to (well, I'll quote from an email) "Audible Plus pool, which is an all-you-can-listen subscription platform where listeners pay $7.95/month for unlimited access to the content in that pool. The author gets paid royalties on a per-minute listened basis (accumulated across all listeners) rather than a full royalty per credit used by one listener." This would have lost me money. I opted out. There's too little money as it is.
I tried to think about mosasaur quadrates, and about the criteria for determining fossil genera vs. extant genera (and the value of genus to evolutionary biology), and I also read a lot more of The Secret History.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
10:12 a.m. (John Henry the Dremel chews on cement-hard Cretaceous marl)
I remember a time when one thing we could largely agree on was rooting for and taking pride in American Olympic athletes. ~ Dan Rather, today
My doctor upped my Gabepentin dose, and so I slept last night. 7.5 solid hours, virtually unheard of. At since I lower my Gabepentin dose. The shit keeps me from having seizures, it controls my anxiety, it helps the bipolar, controls my nightmares, and it makes me sleep. But it has serious cognitive side effects, and I try to keep the dose minimal. I cannot write fiction on high doses. I cannot do science on high doses.
Most doctors do not warn their patients of the hazards of Gabepentin, because a lotta doctors do not really understand the drugs they prescribe. Then again, if absolutely everything I did wasn't based of thinking clearly, it would not be such an issue.
Toady I mostly worked on one of the Winifred Blocks (see photo), but also had email with Bill Schafer and with my agent Rebecca Eskildsen. The latter, Blackstone Publishing was trying to get me to agree to (well, I'll quote from an email) "Audible Plus pool, which is an all-you-can-listen subscription platform where listeners pay $7.95/month for unlimited access to the content in that pool. The author gets paid royalties on a per-minute listened basis (accumulated across all listeners) rather than a full royalty per credit used by one listener." This would have lost me money. I opted out. There's too little money as it is.
I tried to think about mosasaur quadrates, and about the criteria for determining fossil genera vs. extant genera (and the value of genus to evolutionary biology), and I also read a lot more of The Secret History.
Later Tater Beans,
Aunt Beast
10:12 a.m. (John Henry the Dremel chews on cement-hard Cretaceous marl)