public transportation

When faced with your transit line being on fire, proceed directly to your second-best option. Do not think, "oh, I'll try something new this time" or "maybe they'll get the shuttle buses sorted out real soonish-like." You shouldn't, and they won't, and you will be either 2 1/2 hours late getting home or an hour late getting to work, rushing to someplace you don't even want to be anyway.

In other,not unrelated news, our Boston exit strategy is shaping up more quickly, which pleases me.

This summer I am getting back on the blog wagon. I hope it's drawn by a team of clydesdales.

I'm also making stuff around the house. I just topped an old desk with a layer of cork and hung 9 small line drawings of the wildflowers of North America.

I managed to somehow miraculously get enough sleep last night and even beat the alarm clock this morning. It's like Jesus finally decided to stop shitting on my chest every time we'd make love and I'm crying for him to stop, I don't think it's sexy and it burns and leaves a ras...wait, nevermind, forget you read that.

There's a Post-It attached to my computer screen here at work that says I applied for a copyediting job somewhere else, since as I recall, I forgot to CC myself when I applied for that job and thus, when I eventually get the "no thanks you suck" email, I'll remember. Trying to get any sort of (copy)/editing and writing jobs these days outside of economics and music are almost impossible for someone who can't even be bothered to care that he looks like he should be shooting a family heirloom AK-47 from a mountaintop in what used to be Persia, at some poor kid from Milwaukee or whatever, who just wanted to get out of the 'hood and make something for himself in This Man's Army.