I had this brilliant idea. What made it brilliant was its utter simplicity.
I'd sit at this computer, and I'd write an entry.
---
Ta-da!
Wait, does this even count as an entry? Have I written anything, really?
Not yet, I don't think. Needs more cowbell.
---
I took the day off work today, and I didn't do shit except go to lunch and talk to BikerGirl for about thirty seconds. And drink a Newcastle (7745).
---
I can't help but wonder if I'm doing the emotional equivalent of nesting. Just cleaning house, getting everything nice and ready for what's coming. Or for what I hope is coming. As if I'm capable of telling the difference. Or of admitting to myself that there is a difference.
---
I'm in a really good mood now. I blame this particular good mood on the yummy Allagash Grand Cru (89) that I've been drinking since I came home. Before I came home, I had a couple pints of NABC Flat Tyre (63), but Rich O's was such a sausagefest that I left before 8:30.
---
I think that I want to be a part of something special. No, wait. I am part of something special already. What I want is to share something special with somebody special.
---
I've read this Blink! book a couple of times recently. If you ignore the thinly-veiled racism of the author, it's a pretty interesting book. It basically says that we should all trust our instincts. My instincts tell me two things, right now. I'm ignoring or at least discounting one, and I'm practically betting my life on the other.
---
I had another paragraph up there a few seconds ago, but I deleted it. They weren't very nice, the things that I wrote.
---
I'm thinking that certain people could use some lessons in empathy. I mean, who are certain people to judge if someone is hurting enough, or feeling pain the right way? To fail to recognize sorrow doesn't mean that it's not there. Everyone deals with pain in their own way, and sometimes denial is the only tolerable option.
---
There. I hope that's enough cowbell, because I'm kinda tired of writing.
