Traditionally, our family has made use of summers to visit whichever of our two countries we're not currently in. For twenty years, that meant a pilgrimage to Budapest; now that we live in Budapest it means road tripping in the States. This year was no exception - from June 14 to August 30, according to my calculations, I drove a total of 4927 miles, mostly shuttling various family members around Indiana for this event and that.
Even at half-power for the paying work, the result was absolutely zero mental capacity for anything resembling coding, writing, writing about coding, coding related to translation - a complete and utter void. I didn't even take any meaningful notes, beyond the occasional recap of The Plan. (The Plan is a multi-threaded thing that starts with better file handling, goes through literate exegesis of codebases and declarative accounting structures, visits machine translation on the way, and culminates in Hofstadterian generality at its most tenuous reaches - I want to say it's been a constant companion in my life for many years, except that it is utterly mutable. It's actually been a very inconstant companion in my life.)
Anyway, now I'm back in Budapest, Facebook is blocked, I have nobody to visit, no class reunions, all known at-risk family members have already died, I have no need or means to drive people around the countryside, and I'm over the jetlag and the virus I caught in August - in short, session has resumed.
Hold onto your butts.
