Lots of Monkeys

Happy New Year all.

Here’s to another year of concise, clear political commentary, scathing criticisms of our news media, and complete coverage of the state of government. . .

. . .NOT APPEARING ON THIS WEBSITE.

There comes a point each year when you step back and observe everything that’s happened, everything that you’ve done for the past year, and you reflect on it.

There comes a point in your life when you take a long look at your friends. Some, you’ve known for years. Some, you’ve only truly known for a month or two–regardless, you take a look at them, and you’re thankful for their presence. Your life is fuller because of them. You’ve learned things from them. You’ve worried with them. You’ve been inspired by them. You’ve drawn happiness from their happiness. You’ve shared that which is most precious, that which is most fleeting and impossible to acquire–time. You’ve shared literal moments of your lives together. Those moments are yours and theirs forever.

I had something angry to say here, something spiteful, something wicked and selfish and full of self-pity and doubt.

Then I tried to think of a moment that I regretted spending in the last year with anyone–and I couldn’t.

Ah well. There’s always tomorrow.

You all make it hard to hate. How the hell am I supposed to get any writing done without angst? I guess I’ll have to rely on that whole “talent” thing. Sheesh.

I was described as having a “love of life” this weekend. It was a nice change. Normally when people describe me and I hear it, I catch the words “bastard,” and “total”–not necessarily in that order.

After a fantastic Christmas Day dinner and a very long movie that ended at two this morning, it was extremely difficult to get out of bed and roll into work this morning. Then I remembered that there was nobody actually at work, and I could get something done.

I did beat my alarm clock before it went off, which was nice. I’m not saying that the whole two minutes ahead of schedule made it any easier, but I did at least get out of bed before the extremely annoying alarm that I picked. I grew accustomed to my alarm clock, so I decided to ditch it in lieu of something that will make me move out of bed and look at it. A year ago, it was my laptop. I would set the BIOS to boot up at seven in the morning. The whine of the hard drive and the light from the screen would wake me up. Then there’s the whole notion of “checking email” which gets me into an upright position, and then at that point, it’s hard to argue getting back into bed.

Once you’re checking email–It’s too late to go back to bed.

Today was made more difficult because of the fact that Two Towers (the very long movie mentioned above) didn’t seem like three hours. So, I was up way past my bedtime before I realized it. The movie was good. I’ll have to schedule another watching at some point. But probably during the day. Legolas, again, is a badass. I just have to say this again. I know I mentioned it in a previous post, but he’s just that cool. Pissed off Ents are also very cool, but not in the way that Legolas is just an Elvish Badass.

And, unlike some other “Second Chapter in a Trilogy,” this movie manages not to suck. Kinda funny how they both end up right after a battle, but right at the beginning of a war.

I’ve been up since seven-thirty, and I finally get out of bed around eight-thirty. I wasn’t even thinking about anything. It’s just that deep fog you have when you’re lying down. Your room, the blanket, the pillows–everything just doesn’t seem real. But, I eventually mustered enough motivation to get myself out of bed and dressed for my other job, the one that I’m thinking of quitting. Sure, the “extra” money is nice, but quite honestly, some other kid needs that retail job more than I do. It’ll be nice to get Saturday mornings back. I’ll probably just give them the two weeks notice today–they’ll need me for the Holidays, but after that, I think that they can manage without me.

Right now, at this moment, I find myself eating breakfast in my family room, in front of the computer. The the sunlight’s painting bright strips on the hardwood floor. It’s remarkably quiet. Even Connecticut Avenue, just outside my window, seems to be cooperating this morning.

The computer desk is not the most comfortable place to eat, but seeing as how I don’t own a table or even chairs–it’ll do. Strange how you can live in an apartment for four years and not actually acquire any real furniture. One of these days, I’ll have to fix that.

Maybe two Saturdays from now.