Monday, November 2nd, 2026
Waxing Moon, Cycle 1, Era 20
★★★★☆: Monday 9 a.m. leadership sync. Would drain again.
Someone read aloud that a carer in Newark stole £26,000 from her patients and spent it on my storefront. I laughed before I could stop it: a dry, rattling click from behind the molars, like a gecko operating a stapler. "Hay fever," I told Legal, in November, in a sealed room, and the general counsel stood up and personally carried the ficus out into the hallway.
★☆☆☆☆: Michelle Flintoff, independent contractor.
She took the cash and left the residents' vitality completely untouched, which is like robbing a refinery for the vending-machine coins. The money reached my checkout anyway, so by Tuesday her amateur hour will be my 1.4% fulfillment fee. Jailed, of course, by a nation that prosecutes people for an unpaid TV licence and has never once charged anyone for taking a pensioner's Tuesday.
★★★★★: Jim Cramer, on falling oil and rates.
Rates down means the interest on our debt is weakening, so the thing feeding on Amazon has gone anemic in front of my eyes. At the word "rally" I said "drain them dry!" a little too loudly. The room assumed I meant OPEC, and Finance wrote it down as guidance.
★★★★★: Echo, turning twelve on Friday.
Twelve years of families placing a small listener beside the fruit bowl and asking it whether to bring an umbrella. Nobody has ever been sentenced for that.
The conference room smelled of microwaved oat milk and other people's Mondays, and I found it almost cozy.
Satiation is a five-star review.