I was reading some of the posts from my old blog, and I'm beginning to wonder if I write best when I'm

supposed to be doing something else; like work, perhaps. Readdressing the fact that over the summer I sat at a computer all day "editing a book" when, instead, most of the time I sat, posted to my blog, and almost unremittingly checked email. I couldn't miss any mail after all. I was Crazy-Checkin' McEmail.

Spanish presentation tomorrow at two, sounds like someone upstairs is peeing, I'm tired, maybe I'll post

something meaningful tomorrow instead of the randomization of my thoughts...or lack there of. Fragments are my friends. BED!