Long ago, I used to say that the complex is simple and the simple is complex. Pure obfuscation wasn't the intent on my part—loved the extra points it dinged however. During that time, I'd go and talk about the number of lines of code in DOS vs. Windows 95 and 98 and their respective GUIs...

—you know it! That kind of banter picked up all the ladies! It made them as hot as when I'd pontificate on "up" when I was asked what it was. Ahh...social gatherings: the plight of the hapless INTJ not in his natural environment: "The gentleman caller in the blue suede shoes; he don't know what to do...." With the passage of time and self-analysis, we have David Attenborough.

FWIW, I prefer Leo's cover.

But, back on point...

Simple and complex: Is -4.25 lbs a weight gain or a weight loss?

For this site, in displaying the weightloss from one day to the next, I wanted the widget formatted so that weightloss wouldn't be a negative number and weight gain would add a "+" The first part is easy. 318.75 – 314.25 = 4.5. No work needed. However flip it and 314.25 – 318.75 has semantic implications.

So, I made this toilsome equation in Google sheets. It's an if / then statement with some conversion added:

=if(WeightCalcTab!c1<0,concatenate("+",text(abs(WeightCalcTab!c1),"_## ?/?")," lbs"),concatenate(text(WeightCalcTab!c1,"_ ## ?/?")," lbs"))

What is happening?

• If the weight difference is negative, make it positive, turn it into a fraction, change it to a string and append "+" to the front and "lbs" to the back.
• If the weight difference is not negative, same thing, but there's no need to turn it positive and don't append the "+" part.

It's a lot of work for just 1 character—even more for a scenario that won't happen in a fast. But, it's likely something that's going to be a holdover into the next phase.

Simple, but complex.

I am a character out of 1985's Oregon Trail, about a day's journey out of Independence, Missouri. I'll be taking on additional supplies soon, as an order I made with Upton Tea will be coming in this week. It's one-hundred grams of a 2nd flush Darjeeling, 125 g of a broken leaf Darjeeling, and another 125 g of a Japanese sencha. We're talking about 300 double-steeped cups of tea to spend the season fjording rivers and whacking varmints across the plains.

I am in Night Two. I am soaked by the full might of a focused confidence. That said, I am reminded that I was here just days before, but failed by one hour of reaching Night Three. Victory can be stolen by just one fumble—one lapse of focus...

...I come off like Apollo from Battlestar Galactica s3e15:

"One is the only number you need to remember. Because all it takes is for one pilot to let his guard down, one ECO to miss a DRADIS contact, and suddenly the Cylons are on top of us."

So yeah, it's kinda like that—just with digital dysentery and oxen oblivion.

Beyond the sunset, Night Three is less than 2 1/2 hours away.

I am in everything that I expect I would feel 45 hours into a fast. Like last time, I am weakened and feel the heavy hand of food temptation. I stand within the tension of increased creativity and insolvent energy reserves for the imagination's expressive execution. Like a mage maintaining a mana shield, it takes my entire essence to resist the hunger I feel.

Oh, it's NEVER about broccoli and spinach. NEVER! It's not the things that extend our being! No, it is for the corporate discombobulation of the natural order, that is, a Walter White culinary lab engineer who invokes a meth head response so as to meet shareholders' expectations through the dance of subtle interposition and interplay among fats, sugars, and salts. "Oh you cheeky, Squirrel...you want it? You want it? Aha! Eat them—EAT THEM!"

Oh, for all the tactics and theory in these past days, I am reduced to Green Eggs and Ham:

I could not, would not, on a boat.
I will not, will not, with a goat.
I will not eat them in the rain.
I will not eat them on a train.
Not in the dark! Not in a tree!
Not in a car! You let me be!
I do not like them in a box.
I do not like them with a fox.
I will not eat them in a house.
I do not like them with a mouse.
I do not like them here or there.
I do not like them anywhere!

I am Chuck Noland crashing through the surging rage around me.

I am Neo plunging to the sewers.

I enter the belly of the whale.