(no subject)

[diapasoun]

I was tickled to stumble across Charles Darwin and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day today. The article---it's very brief, and quite cute---focuses on a letter written by Darwin to friend Charles Lyell two years after the publication of On the Origin of Species. In it, Darwin essentially notes that he feels like crap and that he totally hates his work that day. Of course, one feels sympathy for Darwin. No good very bad hate-your-life's-work days are just not pleasant. No one likes them.

Perhaps stranger is the sympathetic-schaedenfreude-totally-amused-and-heartened-by-this reaction that I'm currently having. Word, bro-Darwin, word.