Selecting a handful of family pictures out of tens or hundreds is a depressing activity. This has very little to do with it being tedious, and has mostly to do with having to glance at images of smiling people one after another. Speaking personally, looking at a few stills of smiling relatives evokes a similar, though attenuated, expression from me. But beyond a dozen pictures, my facial muscles stage a silent protest, all of them in a state of relaxation regardless of what is perceived by my eyes, and I long for the upcoming photos to be of landscapes sans people or, at the very least, of people sleeping. Too much of anything and you’re liable to become desensitized to it. This is all a lot like how an audience watching Kill Bill Volume 1 will become desensitized to blood halfway through. In the case of a bombardment of smiling people pictures, it’s as tiring as when someone keeps repeating your name.

I have a new pair of shoes coming in the mail. I am not a fan of the lime green lettering, but that can be modified. When they arrive, my socks will stay dry even when I’m a pedestrian on wet sidewalks. Haraa