I am tired.
Work is still juggling, but it's now seven completely different colored balls. They're still balls, though, and they don't seem to mind getting dropped now and again, and I'm finding dropped balls under the desk, the meeting room, the computer, the back of my dusty brain, and all through my e-mail. A little dusty, a little forlorn, but they still juggle nicely.
Jet's still sick. John's still sick. I'm still tired, but able to eat whatever I want and it's getting a little tiring. Still, Carl's March gift of plums arrived, and they are gorgeous and sweet as honey, with tart, smooth skins that yield nicely to the teeth. They will last at least the week, so Jet and John will get their tastes, too.
I often think that morals are what you do when things get really tough, and that arguing over them is like arguing about a life's experience. I do believe in thinking about morals, but I don't think that arguing about them is *thinking* about them. I often believe that if someone is arguing with me about morals, they must not believe in their morals enough to think they're worth keeping unless someone else agrees with them. I don't need anyone to agree with my morals to know that mine are worth keeping, and I am often baffled, angry, and frustrated by people who seem to believe that they must make me agree with them in order to somehow 'prove' the value of their morals.
I guess my view of morals is 'what you do when things get hard", and the moral will prove itself in those situations and the morals that fail are the ones where the consequences show the failure clearly. So the proof is in the pudding, not in the instructions on how to make the pudding. Which, of course, clearly and very succinctly shows why I'm always 'True Neutral' in all the alignment tests.
I don't mind discussing morals, so long as there isn't this undercurrent of "You're worthless unless you agree with me." But with the subject matter comes its own undercurrents.