As of today, by my own choice, I'm no longer employed. I carry a lot of mixed feelings on my way out the door; there's a long story behind the making and timing of this decision. That story doesn't belong on this blog, though - not only because there are NDAs involved. Instead, I want to briefly talk about what happens next, as I enter my temporary (but extended) jobless era.

I've spent a dizzying portion of my online life trying my hardest to have one name for everything. While I mostly succeeded on my own terms, my preferred name does still vary slightly across different contexts. I wish I wasn't so picky about the details, but since I am, I suppose it would be best to be explicit about it.

Recurring dates have held an almost superstitious position in my life for as long as I can remember. I'll give some examples: for a few of my teenage years, the 2nd day of a quarter (e.g. April 2, October 2, etc.) had a reputation for being emotionally turbulent in some way. A majority of my published simfile packs were released on either January 1 or April 20 (try to contain your laughter); little traditions etched into the calendar. But there's one big recurrence in my life: a comet, invisible to everyone but me, that appears in the night sky every six years. It's a deadline, and it arrives in 10 days.

At the time of writing, we're about 10 minutes into pride month, and I just published a long post about computers. Whoops! I want something gayer on the front page of my website, so here's a quick infodump about my particular brand of queerness.

I've redesigned meow.garden from the ground up, eschewing the "digital garden" concept in favor of something a little more home-grown. The "cool stuff" from my monthly notes have been split out into their own section, and the more interesting notes have been moved to a chronological sequence of posts.

Over the course of a decade, I allowed Twitter to become my primary means of socialization. The vast majority of my public writing manifested as tweets. When I finally decided I was unhappy with the status quo, I created this digital garden as an alternative outlet for my prose & declared that "I don't have Twitter". I've since shortened this declaration to "Never Tweet", which is not only more actionable, but a more accurate characterization of my problems with the website.

This is a name I made up for a pattern I noticed in my life: allowing minor inconveniences with obvious solutions to persist. The root cause is small enough to be disregarded, but the consequences can range anywhere from equally small to lifestyle-altering. These problems only take a brief moment of thought to identify, but I've learned it's surprisingly easy to let them pile up for no reason!