I have a date tonight. Okay, technically not a date, but dinner with an old friend. Still, I get to socialize with someone outside of my immediate family, which is a unique experience for me these days. The life of a telecommuter is one of social isolation. I may have the remote wilderness location, but at least I am not turning into a Ted Kaczynski.

If I am lucky, I wil also get to go home tomorrow rather than Saturday. I don’t know that Friday evening before a major holiday weekend is going to be the best time to try to get an early flight out of Dulles. I imagine that everyone else in this town is going to be tying to flee as well.

So what am I doing up this early? My eyes keep falling shut, which is not a good sign. I need breakfast. And sleep. I definitely did not need to stay up to watch amy Sedaris on the Late Late Show. It was just too, er, late. Late late late I hate to masturbate in a cut-rate . . . okay, stop right ther. This lack of sleep is getting ridiculous. It’s a spinny, wobbly, not-quite-focused world and I need to stretch before I do this whole work thing. Bad me — no donut.

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Ugh. How very bloggish. Everything I’ve written sounds so whiny right now. Lousy food, crappy airline, no-notice business trip. Boo-effing-hoo. At least I have a job and money for my lousy food. And my mocha, in spite of being (and even this is being kind) lukewarm, isn’t bad. It isn’t overly-sweet and does not have the classic bitter burnt coffee taste by which we all know and loathe Starblechs. If only they could have heated it. for the maker of the blueberry muffine, I hope you get an infected hangnail and writhe in agony for weeks. In other words, blech!

I think the lack of sleep is hitting me; this should make my 1pm meeting quite entertaining. Okay, time to pound the mocha and hope I can board. Otherwise my gate-checked bag will spin alone in baggage claim while I try to kill 6+ hours here in exciting CVG. My kingdom for a nice room to brush and floss.

(Hey, it’s almost midnight! Damned real-world delays my blogging again.)

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The second leg of my flight is over. Now it is just a short hop to Dulles. Assuming I don’t get bumped, that is. At present, the flight is oversold. What a great concept: Oversold. As in, “We wanted to suck every last penny we could out you idiots and really hoped one or two or ten of you wouldn’t show. And all of you inconsiderate louts did. Now who wants to stay behind?” Yep, yet another reason why I hate airlines.
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I should have realized this trip would not go as planned: I could not find my favorite pen and had to leave home without it. I’d rather have left my Am-Ex.

We have had some warm weather the past few days. Yesterday we hit 104f, with today being a bit warmer. This means a hot plane on the tarmac. Unfortuantely, non-functioning air-conditioning on the plane meant a hot plane in the air. We were quite a pungent lot by the time we de-planed. How come there’s a six hour delay when the pilot can’t figure out how to adjust his seat, but it’s all systems go in a flying steel coffin at 600 degrees?
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And now, I’m off to exciting McLean, VA, where I’ll do something. Hopefully someone will call me before tomorrow to let me know what it is I am doing there.

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Either he now has a real job or Fanatical Apathy is taking up way too much of his time, because Chris Regan still hasn’t updated mythstory for today. Despite the overwhelmingly awesome things that happened on this day in history, Mythstory remains mired in the events of June 26. For shame!

Who can forget the thrilling election of Pope Agatho on this day in 678 (mainly known outside of Catholic circles as “Pope who?”), the tragic death of Joseph Smith, Jr. on this day in 1844 (turning the leader of just another kooky 1800’s revivalist religion into a martyr and filling the streets of pretty much everywhere with pairs of freshly scrubbed young missionaries spreading the Word of Wisdom, Pearl of Great Price and intolerance toward a good cappuccino), or the kind of, but not really, retirement of Muhammed Ali on this day in 1979? Not me, because I just looked it all up and will have it stuck in my head for at least half an hour more.

I am not going to expound upon any of those events, or thousands of others (I think Genghis Khan may have defectated or killed somebody (perhaps both, simultaneously?)) that occurred on this day in history as well. Instead, I will plead with Chris to update Mythstory. C’mon, work’s really slow today and I need something to kill the time.

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Damn that New York Times for acting as if they have some sort of freedom of the press and reporting news! Don’t they know we’re at war? If not Bush’s war for terror, then at least the war on drugs or the war on poverty. Of course, if all of these secret surveillance programs are supposed to be so secret, why do the media keep getting informed about them? Maybe it’s time to follow the Republican ideal: Wrap ourselves in the flag, burn the constitution and base all rights and regulations on the 10 commandments. That’ll work, right? America the faithful, with the Easter Bunny as Secretary of State.

Anyway, here’s some happy morning reading from Mother Jones. I don’t feel like turning my brain on today, so read something by someone else who is willing to.

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Damn. Rick’s still alive, and he hasn’t sold out. The bastard. Double-bastard. He probably even thinks about what he posts, unlike some of us. I feel if I don’t have to think at work, why shouldn’t I extend my natural lack of thought and reflection into my writing. I guess I’ll have to read this jiggle-thingy and almost snap out of my refusal to put any effort into writing. I could move beyond drivel, honestly, if it didn’t take any effort. Personally, I blame my parents for not leaving me less well-adjusted.

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Yep, just a link from Wonkette, but an interesting take on GWB nonetheless: George Bush, Alcoholic.

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