Got myself the Panasonic Lumix DC-LX100 II recently.

Exceptional image quality, compact design, and all the bells and whistles a proper camera geek would drool over—4/3″ 17MP sensor, 4K video, a fancy Leica lens, full manual controls, EVF, touchscreen, WiFi, and probably a secret button that launches a satellite.

Me? I set it to AF, AI, and Auto Everything because I’m basically brain-dead when it comes to cameras and photography.
Spent over a thousand bucks on a camera I don’t fully understand—just to let the camera do all the thinking for me.

So why did I buy it?
Still wondering. Maybe I thought owning a camera this nice would automatically turn me into a National Geographic contributor. (Spoiler: it didn’t.)

And WiFi on this thing? Either I’m doing it wrong, or all cameras have WiFi that feels like it was designed in 2009. Trying to transfer photos to my phone made me question both my sanity and my WiFi password.

I think the COVID-19 lockdown finally did it… I’ve officially gone off the deep end.

Somehow, in between baking banana bread and binge-watching every show ever made, I developed a genuine interest in miniature invisible crabs. Yes. You read that right. Miniature. Invisible. Crabs.

I don’t even know what they eat. I’ve never seen one. But I feel them. I respect them.
They’re tiny, mysterious, and thriving in a parallel universe where social distancing is built into their DNA.

At this point, I’m just waiting for National Geographic to call me in for an exclusive documentary:
“Ghost Crabs of the Lockdown Mind.”