We interrupt this program

I'm actually still writing, but I can't bring myself to hit the "publish" button.

A strange and wonderful and terrifying thing is going on in my professional life right now, which, coincidentally, has taken over the rest of my waking (and, heck, sleeping) life.

I've tried to explain in a draft post, but not only is it difficult -- it only makes sense to those with a thorough understanding of the massive bureaucracy of which I am a part -- but the same rules that make me feel reasonably comfortable about writing as I do now also compel me to either take a break or else write about other things (though, at the moment, as I've said: there are no other things) until my work life returns to normal.

I'll leave you with an old joke -- the best kind -- that I feel adequately sums up the situation. (And no, there's no actual sin in what's going on, though there is the perception of sin. And yes, I'm being about five kinds of mysterious today, but that's just how it's going to have to be.)

"The young rabbi was an avid golfer. Even on Yom Kippur, he snuck out by himself for a quick nine holes.
On the last hole he teed off, and a gust of wind carried the ball directly over the hole and dropped it in for a hole in one.
An angel who witnessed this miracle complained to God.
'This guy is playing golf on Yom Kippur, and you cause him to get a hole in one? This is a punishment?'
'Of course it is,' said the Lord, smiling. 'Who can he tell?'"