I have never been so happy to have risen before noon

I had a really nice day meeting skygiants at the MFA at noon for a screening of Peter Miller's Projections of America (2015) on the last day of the Boston Jewish Film Festival, curling up on the couch in the afternoon to read Zen Cho's Sorcerer to the Crown (2015)—highly recommended—and then making dinner with rushthatspeaks in time to eat with gaudior and B., but I have slept three to four hours a night since Thursday and the part of my brain that generates critical response appears to have temporarily closed down. It's not that I can't think of anything to say: I think it's going to take me hours to say it. On that level of sentience, I should finish my work and sleep instead.

Zingerman's report of the day: goat's milk gouda plus moutarde violette equals a ridiculously tasty sandwich. I don't know why people eat mustard that isn't made with grape must. If it's got horseradish in it, that's different. Otherwise I think I have a new favorite condiment.