The world's oceans appear to be slowing in their circulations.
We are hiring in my department at work and can't agree on a common vision of the future.
I'm struggling to finish a long-overdue writing project.
It's the end of the give-your-money-to-strangers'-non-profit-enterprises-in-hopes-they'll-choose-you-and-take-you-to-the-dance season.
I cannot speak for anyone else when I say the first sentence of this abstract largely describes my life. I hope, but am not sure, that the next three do not.
This is the mean stretch of Lent.
It's late. I'm going to bed.