Your leaking thatched hut during the restoration of a pre-Enlightenment state.


Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").


decay & ruin
Biosphere II
dead malls
Irving housing

got that wrong

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff

(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   no joy in anything
Saturday, February 29 2020
Overnight, I had terrible delerium dreams that merged my constant coughing with fragments of JSON, combining my health anxieties with those from my workplace. I must've had a fever, because such dreams do not happen without one.
I never went outside at all today, and the dogs never received a walk. I stayed mostly in the bed upstairs, at least when I could take the crowding and inefficient bed-real-estate behavior of the critters.
By late this morning I was troubled by a new, unwanted symptom: a rattle in my chest when I inhaled. With effort, I could cough up the chunk of mucous that was causing the rattle, but it wouldn't be long before the rattle would start up again, and I'd have to cough that one up too. It was exhausting. A little before 2:00pm, I measured my temperature and was dismayed to see it was 102 degrees Fahrenheit. That's a real fever. When you have a fever like that, you can no longer find joy in anything, and all you can do is stare blankly at the ceiling. Eventually, the fever came down, but there would be other waves of fever, and they'd all be miserable like that one.
Food-wise, today I mostly got by on jarred chunks of grapefruit. Eventually I also ate a can of black bean soup. If I were suffering from an actual flu, it's highly doubtful I could've eaten black bean soup, but hell, I even put hot sauce in it. That's one of many oddities about this particular illness.

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