Your cocktail sir,

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2003-01-15 - 11:44 p.m.

I had a very bad day.

I was planning on having a quiet evening at home, perhaps watch a movie. Do the dishes. Catch up on my special projects.

I didnít.

And now itís almost midnight. And I have nothing to show for my evening except staring into space. I didnít even read my tacky novel. Or anything really. Some bills. I read the bills. I was looking over the $3.95 ďfreeĒ gifts on the back of the credit card statement and considered purchasing them. For no reason. It was a desperate act towards shopping or something. A compulsion towards economic self destruction that I did not give into. I also gave serious pause to a new vacuum, a replica vintage Coca-Cola truck, and three software titles worth $150.00. Such was my state that the Who wants to be a Millionaire? game seemed attractive. Because I would. I would like to be a millionaire.

And so the evening ends. Not with a bang (Iím depressed remember. Thus no libido) but with this whimper.

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Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19

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Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20

Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18

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