It's Christmas Eve, and I'm all alone with nothing to do. It's perfect.

I appreciate the respite from everything else that happens in December. The darkness, the holidays, my birthday, the pandemic. All matter that creates existential crises and other fits of panic. Any variation from the norm is too jarring. If it weren't for the hygge I get from solitude, something in the past 3 years would've certainly killed me.

But we don't need to get into all that. I am a walking, talking retrospective of my life almost 24 hours a day. We need to talk about why you're here!

I've been messing around with a few writing mediums this year and just really haven't felt comfortable using any of them. The last one I used, Medium, seems more about building its sigh "ecosystem" than being a good publishing tool. And what am I publishing, ultimately? A blog? I don't think that's the route I want to go.

And before Medium? Well, there was Substack. It has better tools for everything. But it also has a Nazi problem.

So I'm shunning that and starting this. I'm also probably going to wind down my other social media stuff and keep everything here. We'll see.

And what will this be? I'm guessing whatever I'm feeling on that given day. Today, for instance has been just swell. I hung out with my kid for a little bit and she opened her presents from me.

And then there's an alley picture I took a few days ago.

So thanks for reading, and I hope to have more for you soon.

-Andy