It just occurred to me, that with every online emotion, even written in hard copy, I extrude a part of my inside. Blorp. Here's what I listen to, gratis blip.fm, new timesucker extraordinaire. Here's my momentary fear, as captured by Twitter, from my cell phone, as I am truly lost in thought, but not letters.
It seems that I have resumed duties as Facebook content provider. Hello and welcome back to the show.
My life is on Facebook. Sad, perhaps, but shockingly true. So much so that I felt I had to limit co-workers a little. Momentary fears not appropriate. No, no, complete strangers can see that shit, but I can't have my #1 being all up in it. Work dynamics are strange enough anyway.
Speaking of which I'll be going to a hockey game later with my boss, after having essentially blown off all of this morning and most of this afternoon. I'll have to do something to show that I'm worthy, if I haven't already. I'm banking on the fact that I have, I realize. I'm just tired, and so I slept. Not much more to it than that. I've got three hours or more to get some work done. That's at least equal to half a day at the office.
Right. Working. Let me get on that.