I'm still here, you know.

I've just been a little busy is all. The more I work, the more of my own time I lose. With 10 hours or more per day dedicated to furthering someone else's cause, I have to think about how I'm spending my time. You know how it is. I come home, I try to relax, and instead, I find myself on the computer for hours, not doing much of anything. It's worse than channel surfing, really, because it bears the illusion of productivity--you know, you're in front of your computer... computers are for working, right? so you must be working if you're in front of your computer for this long.

So there it is. I've idled a day away to no particular end. Even logging or journaling or whatever you want to call this pithy shit seems like a waste of time compared to the real and essential need to relax. Well, no more. There's work to be done. So maybe I'll do this more often, or maybe I'll do it in the background, like I've been doing lately. But the point is, I'm 30, and my efforts are only seen but a few hundred thousand people, very few of whom appreciate the product of my work. And besides, games are really other people's work--I'm just a step along the way to realizing (or perverting--funny; I almost wrote perfecting. gods know, that's not what I meant) that work. So the point is, oh I forget. It's not worth it.

drinking: nothing. had some water. it was nice.
eating: nothing. had some Reese's Pieces. they were nice.
reading: various chess books; A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius -- I picked this up again, intent on finishing it.
listening: some david bowie. saw him live friday night. woooeee. man. he's old-ish, but he's got more energy and charisma than i ever did.
thinking: i'm tired. i'm 30. i'm still having delusions of grandeur. quiet desperation is for the lazy. time for some noisy desperation.