I’m enjoying writing the posts by date for now. It gives it more of a journal feel, not like my moleskin with its floppy cover and ridiculously long tether, but a tidy, perfectly-ruled pad of paper.
Because I’m a terrible person, I just got the drive to read Andra Watkin‘s “Bad Deal” from Echoes in Darkness, even though it was in my queue for about… six weeks? Seven weeks? It’s hard saying. Granted most of that time was spent debating whether or not my existence was better than that of an orange, which is just outright silly to thing do. Oranges are much more enjoyable than I am.
Unsurprisingly, I’ve filled my time this week with buying L.A. Noire for peanuts because I get horribly addicted to games… and cigarettes… and food. Anyway, the only thing of note was seeing old friends, who have since relocated out of the area, over Thai last night. Enjoying their company was only overshadowed by the understanding that it was a seldom-seen event. That is true for most of my old contacts. The few that remain are either engaged or married with their own lives. It just gets harder the older you get.