I’m slouched in a warm bed, in a poorly appointed but clean and well-located hotel in Paris. Wi-fi access is to be had for the asking, and was easy to set up. My belly is stretched to convexity with Vietnamese-style squid and vegetables and rice, and a beer. I worked for fifteen hours today, including meals that doubled as either lab meetings or reviewing the articles I meant to write about here for longer than I care to remember precisely.

I’m still slouched in the warm bed. It’s still very warm. The functioning digestive system has pushed everything further down and into a more comfortable format. My brother warned me by Skype earlier about the dangers of a quick glance at Facebook before turning in. He had made it back to Boston from Biarritz via Toulouse minutes before.

“Don’t worry!” I told him. “I’m in the middle of reading a fascinating article. Then I have to read the draft my student gave me because we will go over it tomorrow.” (And I was. In fact, some ten Nature tabs alone were open, as well as some related ones.)

So what do I do, after a few days of barely skimming the Internet? I hit that little icon that brings me to Google Reader, rather than finishing this post… and the next hour was history.

Despite having read and underlined the bits of articles I thought I wanted to discuss, I realize I do not, actually. Not today (or yesterday, as the case is now.) Perhaps more entertainment will be forthcoming on Friday – tomorrow, or I mean today, I return to Toulouse meanwhile.

Sleepily, signing off.