from entry for Thursday, February 22…
It says something about the day when, a mere 12 hours since it ended, I struggle to recall much of anything about it. A morning at the desk, a timed writing, work, home, television, dinner, the paper to piss me off (the Sox have completely taken up residence on another planet – to give Big Papi a truck?!?!), and finally sleep. I imagine these are the kinds of days that, in reality, often make up the bulk of one’s life, but I hardly find that a comforting thought.
blahg, blahg, blahg... 