08 April 2005

Where, oh where, could my little blog be...

Here, obviously. Although it wasn't, for several days. I wasn't aware blogger could go non-functional. And it's too bad for you, because I had some great ideas for posts--brilliant stuff, and laugh-out-loud funny. All forgotten, just because I refuse to carry around a notebook for my ideas. Maybe I fear becoming some middle-aged guy who scribbles in an old book while mumbling to himself. Don't ask me where this image comes from, I have no idea.

Instead, I'll just spend some time telling you about my day. I'm not sure if it'll be funny, I guess you'll have to be daring and hope it is. Chronological order makes the most sense, so as Fraulein Maria would say, "let's start from the very beginning, a very good place to start..."

(1) Woke up.
Generally, this is the best way I can think of to start the day. I have this really good habit going of waking up every day, and this morning was no exception.

(2) Hit the snooze button. Had really weird (but cool!) dreams for nine minutes.

(3) Repeated steps one and two. Many times. Many, many times. Pondered how this might permanently damage my biological clock.

(4) Rolled out of bed and into the shower. Took a shower.
This was actually several steps. I don't have my shower adjacent to my bed, though the convenience of that is enticing. I'll spare you the details on shower-taking, because it's really quite boring and non-creative, and besides that I'd be amping up the EWWWWW factor of my blog. I'm finding that the whole shower thing is a necessity if you actually want a social life. I wish I had known that before junior high (just kidding). But if you love your personal space, by all means, don't shower.

(5) Got dressed.
Again, if you love your personal space, skip this step too. That being said, I like being able to leave the apartment without fear of being arrested, so I almost always get dressed after taking a shower. I especially avoid nude-apartment-guy syndrome if I know I'll be (a) ironing anything (b) cooking anything that might spit (c) eating anything hot and drippy (d) blowing glass (e) folding laundry (f) sitting on anything with fabric upholstery (g) sitting on anything made of steel (h) dancing in the room I keep my cactus collection.
I realize you've probably lost your lunch by now....

(6) Cooked and ate my own breakfast.
Had a two-egg omelette. Three-egg is too big, plus it's really hard to get my pet chicken to lay more than two in a day. On a side note, I know they call it Extra Virgin Olive Oil supposedly because it's the first pressing, but in reality it's because they need an extra virgin to stomp around in the olives.

(7) Went to the law school library. Accomplished things. Yeah, that's right.
Library + Friday morning = peaceful and serene quiet time (read: boring as hell). Do you really want to know what I was doing there? You do? Wow, um, okay. Well, this author of an article that our journal was trying to get decided last minute that he would not be going with our publication and would not, after all, be signing the contract. This means a pared down, intense, one week cite-checking of another article to meet our deadline of April 30th. This means my whole morning and afternoon were spent pulling the roughly 70 sources cited in the article (which had one foot in our rejection pile grave but is now resurrected, Lazarus-like). This means that all the reading, outlining, and blogging I had expected to do earlier today gets pushed into the weekend. This means I will not, under any circumstances, be doing a joyful Snoopy dance in the near future. And that's too bad, because I do a mean Snoopy dance. Not literal "mean," as in malevolent, but colloquial "mean," as in hilarious. If you saw me do it, you'd get why. But now you won't.

(8) Went home to eat lunch and channel-surfed.
I get three PBS stations, which means I can even get educated while couch-potatoing. That reminds me: please....no....more.....Charlie....Rose.....interviews! Or anything put out by the Annenberg CPB project. Please.
During lunchtime, I also get Mister Rogers! I only watch when I need a quick childhood fix, but today seemed really funny to me, on a double entendre kind of level. I mean no disrespect to the show or the man, which I loved as a kid. But on four hours of sleep and after a morning of journal work...well, you read it:

(cue macabre Debussy-esque piano music)
Lady Elaine: "It's in the P room. [awkward pause] P is for package." [uh, ok]
Fred Rogers dressed in a bear costume that may have been purchased in North Halstead, Chicago says something about how he wants the package, and a black woman who looks like she must be the bear's corporate counsel chimes in. Then:
King Friday: "Bring on the package!!!!"

It just got me, I'm sorry. Really.

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