In the interregnum, I find I have been removed from a friend's list for the first time (Eva! Take me back!) and that others have lost their jobs, if not their way.
As for myself, I don't have much to say by way of narrative, but I do feel the urge to once again take up bandwidth. But be warned: This will not likely prove to be my finest hour; you all should probably stop reading. I fear this will only get duller as my fingers dance across the keyboard fantastic, like 10 miniature can-can girls under the sway of a drunken choreographer.
I have decided to take the plunge into unemployment, if I can do so by way of my company's fairly generous voluntary severance package. Doing so will permit me to pay off all my debts, put a significant chunk of money away for a downpayment on a house (to be purchased in league with a couple of friends) and maybe even have enough cash left over for a brief holiday before I start in looking for a new job.
Of course, I count on nothing - applying for "the package" is not the same as receiving it. Fortunately, I won't have to wait more than three weeks or so for an answer.
Paraphrasing a line in a John Windham novel, I note one often finds oneself wondering about the choice of mate one's friends make.
Sometimes, though, the opposite is true.
My best friend's girl-friend (or "partner", or whatever) is a marvel. Smart, funny, independent (yes, and gorgeous), she comes and goes at her own time, without feeling the need to be accompanied by her partner. As a fer'instance, the three of us had drinks the other night (Monday? I think so). She had to work in the morning, and so packed it in relatively early. Left without a hint that she thought he should come with her, that she resented his time with me, or any other sign of insecurity.
I know, it doesn't sound like such a big deal, but couples whose individual units are truly autonomous at the same time they are part of a larger whole are, in my experience, very rare indeed.
He is very fortunate to "have" her.
I have been drinking way too much lately, to the point where a serious cut-back is in order. Also, I seem to have developed a very adolescent, possibly childish, sweet-tooth. I can't remember when chocolate has been on hand as often as it has been lately.
I screwed up my sleeping pattern so badly last week that I was forced to cancel my date with L. Yes, the same girl who invited herself over to my place for dinner following our first meeting.
Yes, I've been kicking myself ever since, but I was running on about 5 hours' sleep over the previous 56 hours when I called her.
She, thank the dieties, took it well and we are going to try for tomorrow night. Happily, I had a good sleep last night and see no reason the same won't be true tonight.
I'm not wearing glasses. I'm not wearing glasses! I'm not wearing glasses! I'm not wearing glasses! I am not wearing glasses!
Young Geoffrey feels very pretty indeed, though his eyes have not yet wholly adapted being covered by small plastic bowls, no matter how soft and delicate they may be. Nevertheless, his eyes are focussing better as time goes on and he prays to every god in which he doesn't believe that the experiment is a success.
It's been three weeks or so now since the network card in my new computer stopped working and I have yet to do anything about it.
It's possible that returning to a 14" monitor, a much slower machine and the accursed world of Microsoft is at least in part to blame for my silence here.
Or, maybe I just haven't had much to say.
Come to think of it, I don't seem to have much to say now, either, do I?
Aside from the requisite anger at the State of the World, most of my wrath has lately been directed towards myself and my many, many failings. More than anything else, at my inability to get any god damned writing done.