Leaving On A Jet Plane

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And so I've decided once again to start a weblog. Why, you might ask, am I trying this again? I've had two false starts, you might add, and it seems pretty clear at this point that I lack the self-discipline and pure self-interest necessary for such an endeavour. You might end your question by expanding the scope of your incredulity and pointing out that I never finish anything I start, and that I'm generally a worthless and lazy bum.

You've got some attitude, don't you?

The answer to the question that started that unfiltered torrent of vitriol is actually quite simple; I'm starting this project once again, despite my obvious inability to complete it, because I'm a very silly person.

The evidence has long supported this conclusion.

So now I sit, silly, in a relatively comfortable chair facing out a window in Hartsfield Atlanta International Airport. Yes, that's actually the name - it doesn't quite roll off the tongue, does it. The time is 5:36 AM EST, which is 2:36 AM PST. I give the Pacific time for point of comparison; I awoke yesterday morning at seven AM in San Francisco, and I have no yet slept. My sleep-addled mind calculates this as nineteen and a half hours without sleep; as is always the case - and doubly so in this state - my math is worth checking. But the end result of my rambling is fairly clear: It is late, and I am tired. My state of mind is most accurately described as 'absent', and I've miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep. Though, as if to quash any poetical leanings I might have, there are no woods in sight.

You've dodged that bullet.

How did I come to be in this chronologically-intense fatiguing mess? MacWorld San Francisco is to blame; that and my retrospectively hilarious decision to take the red-eye flight home Friday night.

I am, as has been mentioned previously, a very silly person.

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