Much with the torpidity. Coffee makes me alert enough to recognize that I am yet unresolved as a point of sentience. Someone is staring off into the mist over the river and numbly agreeing. It might be me, if I were discretely conscious.
Complex things await; SQL procedures 600 lines long (promising 900 when done), calls to lawyers, letters to courts, and more to write on the drive-thru funeral parlor.
Maybe more coffee.
Crossposted from Epinephrine & Sophistry