Repeat this.

Blogging about nothing because there is nothing to blog about. Welcome to the sentential hell of Friday, 3 PM. I’m definitely suffering from television-commercial induced Restless Leg Syndrome this afternoon. I can’t stop my legs from jiggling around, willing my brain to decide it’s time to just leave. But this isn’t going to happen. I can’t get anything done. Problems loom on the horizon, but the people I need to rectify these situations are out until Monday. All I can do is wait. I think that I’m currently at the legal limit for slouching in your chair as you type. I’m almost horizontal. All I need is a foot rest. My desktop is awash in cables and wires. I have a satellite receiver pointing at the window, more adapters than Altoids, two different types and brands of MP3 players, micro printers, and both my monitors are now set up to give me a headache because they seem to contradict each other. I ran an audit yesterday afternoon, and it was so long I decided, in fairness to the trees, to use the duplex printer and get it printed on two sides of the page. No one here does that. I’m just a saint. I think this day is going to devolve into an afternoon of trying to beat my personal best at Tetris. Is this movie Ultraviolet going to be any good? I can’t imagine a PG-13 film aimed at young boys who can’t see naked breasts being the most critical film of the year, but I need some distraction from the low-tech reality we still are suffering to live in. I feel so slow and sped up at the same time. Could this be why I keep having awful dreams? No, I think that’s all the American Idol I’ve been watching. I might dig out Star Wars: Bounty Hunter and play it tonight. Maybe pretending I’m Jango Fett will lift my zany sprits. They’re supposed to cut the power tomorrow night at 8 PM. That’s 8 on a Saturday night. For some sort of maintenance. How about Sunday at 3 AM? That would make my life easier. Thankfully the WB isn’t running a new Smallville this week. You know, I don’t think we’ve seen Tom Welling’s ass even once this season. Time for a rethink on the story arc, I believe. I have two books in my bag, and about 12 on my Palm, so I should try and do some reading this weekend. One of the tasks I need to start thinking about is doing something with the bookshelves sagging under the weight of books in my apartment. I should probably start by figuring out the never-read ones so I have something to look forward to. My brain is literally shutting down sector by sector. This must be how Neal Peart gets lyric ideas.