The Stars and the Cookie Jar

....I'm starting this babble in mid-sputter.

It's just that they were all so young. Even, even the baddie! He was twenty-one years old and doing unspeakable, psyche-mauling things.

I'm putting off the editing and ignoring it and fobbing it and skiving from it... but it's okay, because I have stuff I am legitimately required to do.

I don't remember finals starting this early when I was a wee student...

I am ashamed to say I probably picked a fight with Fearless Leader at work today, and the fault was mine (for once!!) I'm just so... I wouldn't go so far as burnt-out. But I am tired of what I'm working on, and tired of going to work.

Meh. I have to do some research on, of all things, how difficult or time-consuming it would be to compose music for a ten-piece band. Where's shirei_shibolim when you need him?

Courtesy of an excellent German site :

In case you wondered, it's the bread ration for the Vilna Ghetto. Per working adult, per day. Working adults were the ones attending the sick, hauling rickshaws and laying road. Those who worked in the theatre, who counted as artists, got half the above amount.
Make it last...

If you are hardcore (and really want to be scared) read Mark Dworzecki's Struggle For Health In The Vilna Ghetto. It's a medical treatise; Brandeis has it in English, in the collections in the mezzanine of G-F. He survived; he published in 1946 (Paris: OZE-FARBAND) and he was the first to discover that when the body runs out of fat to consume, it starts to work on the brain.

Occasionally my research makes me burst into tears.