...

I’m well aware of the fact that I’m posting this on Wednesday, May 24; however, at the time of writing, it’s 11:11 P.M. on Tuesday, and I can hear Bono wailing pretentiously from wherever the crap that U2 concert is, and I swear he’s singing “Rocket Man.”

Coherency is, therefore, not high on my list of priorities.


I had one of those rare free evenings last night where I had absolutely no responsibility, so I took a walk to the library to pick up some items I’d ordered. On my way home, I looked down and realized that my cute little Gregory Peck potbelly had swollen just a bit more across the view of my feet. So I went home, stuck in season two of Gilmore Girls, and proceeded to do three sets of twenty sit-ups and three sets of ten pushups.

Actually, it was a set of four pushups and THEN three sets of ten. The set of four came first, so… progress?

Afterwards, I went into the bathroom to perform my nightly oblations (a word I hope I’m using correctly, and, if not, see the disclaimer at the top). I looked at my hair – always messy – and I saw just a single strand shooting out from the side of my head. It was, of course, grey.

It occurred to me that I haven’t really been all that productive, of late. I’ve got a lot of goals, but I haven’t done a whole lot to work on them. The most productive thing I did yesterday (well, before writing about my little breakdown) was find a writer who actually made me care a little bit about reading a Fantastic Four comic.

(Incidentally, Jonathan Hickman’s pretty darn good).

I just remembered that I have a lot I want to get done with my life. I want to finish up that darn novel I started back in November, get some more drawing done, and adopt Rory Gilmore. She’d be lucky to have me for an adopted daddy – but only if she agrees not to do that whole little adulterous affair with Dean thing.

Anyway, I’m twenty-seven years old, and I think I’m having some kind of midlife crisis. So if you see me today, and my head’s completely shorn, and I’m complaining about a sore belly and arms, you’ll know why.