I swear I think the days are getting shorter, not longer. It’s not because I’m getting taller. I’ve measured, and I’m holding steady at 6’0. And it’s not because the sun’s dying, as is posited in the new Danny Boyle film Sunshine. I know for a fact that the sun is pretty young, by star standards, and apparently has a few hundred million years left in it before it even hits retirement age. And supposedly, those are the golden years. I wonder what the sun’s 401k plan is like…
No, it just seems like lately, the days run incredibly short compared to how they went when I was blissfully free in my freelancery. I tell you, life was sweet and delicious and full of vigorous doings, which as most of you know, is my MO. I like doing things. When asked what I wanted to be, I said, I don’t want to be, I want to do. (Oooh, note to self: Use in a script for inspiring graduation speech scene for as yet unwritten movie.) And my doings, of late, have been short, not really all that sweet, and very to the point.
Naturally, I’m not referring to my recent trip to New York, which except for the rapid way in which the days passed, was absolutely sweet and all things good and wonderful, the epitome of the perfect weekend, the events of which shall remain private, for private moments seem to dictate private thoughts and reflections. Needless to say, it was a much needed time with Em.
The computer is still on the fritz (see Nazi references below), making my life as a home tech support guy a burning, angry pile of suck. I had to solder a piece back onto my video card because my huge monkey paws accidentally wrenched off a capacitor. Me, soldering. Not good. Molten plastic and body parts everywhere. Remember that scene in Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark when the Nazis’ faces melted and then exploded?That was me and all my roommates last night as I attempted to fix my video card. The good news is, the video card is fixed. The bad news is, none of us have faces anymore, which is going to make getting my driver’s license renewal a bit more challenging. More on that in five years.
Writing, despite it all, has progressed to the point where I’m not dismayed at the lack of results. Which is a round-about way of saying I’m working hard, but not quite as hard as I could, but I’m still getting enough done not to cause me to jump off my balcony. Which leaves me back at stage 1, Melted Face Guy. But it’s better than Totally Dead Guy, and much better than Exploded Nazi Head.
Once I get my lovely computer back up and running, I promise to have a Fringecast up thereafter. It’s all ready to go, in that we’re all anxiously biting our lips and counting down from 100 and saying the alphabet backward, hoping that this infernal machine will once again bow down to its master in humble acknowledgment that while electronics may rule our lives, we control the current.
I bet that’s just what they said just before activating Skynet.
Oh yeah, Happy belated St. Patrick’s Day.