Manic Monday... er...Wednesday... no wait, Thursday... aww, frak it.

Note: Another forgotten post. I'll let you know when it catches up to the present.

You never run a man-to-man defense when you're up by two with a minute-seventeen to go. Zubov sucks at defensive play calling. According to Keaton.—This random interruption brought to you by the letter X, B, O, and X. And the numbers 3, 6, and zero.

That was written about... 9 days ago... and I just didn't get to it anymore that day. Sitting here at work on what could be misconstrued as lunch. It's just after twelve and the Wednesday sirens just pierced the din of my office. Not much din to pierce. It's quiet, thankfully.

I'm sitting here secretly loathing Zubov and Keaton as they are both home today and thus free to see a movie. Okay... not loathing. I wouldn't loathe them if my life depended on it. And they'd probably both actually be working today, but still. Tiny tiny jealousy dances around my brain like a mosquito. It's there just enough so that I know it's there and yet it doesn't pierce me.

The sun looks nice on the brick outside my window. It still looks colder than frack out, but at least... spoke too soon... the sun has been abducted. It was slow and I watched it happened. There was nothing I could do.

In a funny little mood. Starving to death probably contributing to this, but then that'll happen when you leave your lunch at home. My stomach rumbles now and then like a tired beast. It knows it needs food, but it's too weak to hunt. So it waits, hoping some stupid creature will pass by close enough for a tired claw to lash out and deliver the kill. Like that python in Australia.

Seriously, did you read about this? A python slithered into some people's back yard and swallowed their dog whole. In front of the kids. Now that's a bad day.

Ooh... the sun's back.

Yes, shiney objects distract me. Having a giant one hanging in the sky above doesn't help. It's probably good that I live in Ohio. I wonder if I'm more productive in the winter?

Random thought: I'm craving blueberry-peach dump cake. End thought.

Note: Another shift—it's now a week later. Tuesday night. Hoping to post before bed.

My cat thinks he's a ninja. I'm sure of that. Maybe he's possessed by a warrior spirit? I did name him after a god. He's too funny. And hyper as we approach the witching hour.

I'm sitting here on the Blackbird, trying to write somehing other than this blog. No offense. But whatever writers' block has Keaton in the throes of torture, I'm thinking it's latched onto me.

Wow... that was a horrendous yawn. And the audio quality wasn't up to snuff. My tiredness is creeping up over my head like a bad dream.

Gonna post this to get it up there. But I need to get back to regular posts AND I need to get back to WRITING again. Staring at the computer doesn't count. I'm learning this.