My internet was down for five days and I had to free ride on an unsecured wireless network in the building just to check e-mail every couple days. Now I'm back in action, able to lollygag in the blogosphere at leisure, but nothing's particularly burning my bloomers. Still, I feel I must post something new just so I don't have one of those stale, neglected blogs, too ashamed to ask anyone to come over after school. Bad enough I'm unread, must I be unfresh?!
I keep wanting to put a parenthetical phrase behind the word 'unread'. Something like (although actually I don't care if I'm read- not joking- honestly). And, truthfully, I don't care. I'd feel much worse about navel-gazing circle jerks like this if I thought anyone else had to suffer through them. However, the fact that I'm motivated to write that I 'actually', 'truthfully', 'honestly' don't care makes me wonder, Dr. Freud, if I really do. Pathetic in either case.
At some point, I'll post on what an untalented hack I am in comparison to others I read and enjoy regularly. I promise it'll be more fawning than self-pitying, but for now, read the poorly assembled syllables above and take my word for it.
No links till I care enough.
Slumber or Rock On (as local time zone or local custom dictates)
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