The final Monday

One more week before the grand abyss of unemployment. Hauling it out of bed this morning was no picnic, but seeing that light at the end of the tunnel does make the crawl to the shower a little easier.

(Yes, I do actually crawl. Especially on Monday mornings. I roll — literally — out of bed, let gravity do the work, and land on the carpet on all fours. I then crawl at least as far as the bedroom door, where the transition from carpet to hardwood usually compels me to get up off my knees.)

And I'm surprisingly busy for what I expected to be a fairly quiet week. So many lose ends to tie off — or perhaps more appropriately, to amputate and cauterize. I didn't expect there to be so much de-Borging to go through, but over seven years you accumulate a lot of probes and wiring.

I do remember that after Picard got all his implants unscrewed and plugs pulled, the first thing he did was visit the family winery and get appropriately soused...

Well, make it so.