Part of this is that I'm ramping the mind back up to speed after a fortnight of focusing on surviving the physical circumstance within the discipline. Reading some proper modern work on Dewey today, had to get through two or three rather ugly banks of cloud and fog. There's a reason that philosophers tend to be those who are living comfortable lives. (Pace Boethius, Socrates, et al.)
"When the water is cloudy, I wash my cloak. When the water is clear, I wash my head covering."