Saturday, June 29
Friday, June 28
Thursday, June 27
Wednesday, June 26
Tuesday, June 25
I started out productive. Well, no, I didn’t actually. I tried to start out productive. After lunch. Maybe.
I took an early lunch because I was up at 5am to ride my bike. It wasn’t even 11:00am when I attacked my food. By noon I felt like I had entered an eternal hell of cubicle-dom. I tapped away at my keyboard…composing blog posts. Every so often I would chuck in a line or two toward progress on the document I was supposed to be working on.
Snatch up smarty phone. No new texts.
Check email. Then second email account. Then the Book of Face. Then my blog to see if anyone else had commented or there were any new posts in my blog feed.
And then for five minutes I was productive.
Then I got a text. Whoo-hoo! Human interaction! Text back, wait for response, respond to response. Check email. Then second email account. Then the Book of Face. Then my blog…
Compulsive unscheduled scan of the Book of Face. Oh! Haven’t checked the Tour Divide leaderboard today! Mike Hall is in New Mexico! WOW!!! A cycling video, some photos, a run on twitter, and a little wistful daydreaming later and I’m back to work.
Ooh! New text!
Forensics are back from the bear spray incident last night. The boy ain’t talking. He’s going to be a hard nut to crack.
What was I doing? Oh, I gotta pee anyway.
Now I’m back. Tappity? What am I tappitying? Oh yeah!
Tappity, tap, tap. Tappity, tap, tap. Tappity. Tappity.
“Tappity” is a funny word. Try saying it to yourself out of context. Don’t you just want to smack yourself?
Book of Face, email, email, blog, twitter, TD leaderboard: all are still there, holding their places in cyberspace.
Snatch up smarty phone. Nuthin’!
Whew! Hope no one checks my internet usage for today!
Tappity. Tap-pity. Tap pity. Pity tap. Pity party. Tappity pity party.
GAH! LOSING MY MIND!
Book of Face…NO! No Book of Face until work is DONE!!!
I know! I’ll compose a completely meaningless blog post about how boring my afternoon is! Maybe I should find some bear spray to play with…
Tap-p-ity. Ta-pp-ity. T-appity. Tapp-ity. Tapp-it-y.
BOOK OF FACE!
MIKE HALL IS IN NEW MEXICO!!!
Man, I’m hungry. If I had money on me I’d go to Chipotle. Chi-pot-lay. Chip Otley. Chih-poh-tul.
No new texts. Mike Hall. Tappity. Book of Face. Chipotle.
Back to work…
Last night my nephew—because he was bored—pilfered through my camping gear, found the bear spray, and then sprayed it in the confines of the Bike Cave (read: my basement workshop). Then he and my youngest heathen came upstairs and pretended like nothing had happened. (On a semi-related note: my niece, sister of our Mighty Bear Slayer, posted her phone number on facebook last night with the message: “Someone text me…bord”)
And they'd have gotten away with it, except the geothermal unit picked up a whole bunch of particulate capsaicin and distributed it evenly through the house. Well, maybe not so evenly.
Now, the rule at our house is "if it ain't yours, don't touch it!" My kids don't follow that rule. I don't know why I'd expect that someone else's kid would follow that rule either. Generally my niece and nephew are good kids and don’t look to make trouble, it just seems to follow them around like a bad smell. Or a cloud of flaming hot bear spray.
|If only I knew...I'd have left him in that hole.|
Monday, June 24
|It's a Jeff thing, you wouldn't understand...neither do I|
|Why yes, I am down two pounds of raw wussedness|