a vestige of thought...
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
The Voice of Procrastination
I'm working this evening. What are the chances that they will have stopped playing Christmas music at the mall? Slim, I imagine. If I remember correctly, they played it until New Year's last year. If there is one "politically incorrect" thing that I wish the crazies would go after, it's Christmas music at the mall. Certainly there is no music that even remotely references that offensive child who had the nerve to be born in Bethlehem and then become significant enough for over 90% of Americans (not to mention the millions of people world wide) to celebrate his birth. I find Christmas music without Christ to be offensive, but who listens to Christians?
I read an article not long ago that named the "true meaning of Christmas" as nostalgia. For the American mainstream I think someone has finally- and unfortunately- named the 'truth.' And what do I know? Perhaps for someone "It Must Have Been the Mistletoe" triggers warm fuzzies instead of the gag reflex.
My parents claim that my wrist problems are from typing too much. I hold this to be false. However, they got me "wrist pillows" for the keyboard and mouse for Christmas. Apparently this is humorous. Har har.
My final fish died this morning. It lasted a pretty long time for a fish. I got five of them in March of 2004. One died each week for the first three weeks that I had them, the the other two lived long and happy fish lives. One died two or three weeks ago and the other, obviously, this morning. It had some sort of odd fungus growing on it. Yuck. I rather miss watching the little guys, though.
Christmas break (or any break from regular routine), while quite enjoyable, is generally bad for me. I stayed up until 2:00 last night (a rare luxury), but (as fate would have it) woke up at 8:30. I certainly could have gone back to sleep, but some part of my cruel conscience convinced me that to sleep all day is a horrible waste of time and I ought to get up. So I got up around 9:15 and have tried to be productive today. I'm just about to go clean my room. Honest, I am. (Please ignore the fact that I'm still wearing pajama pants).
167. World Magazine
168. movie soundtracks
169. Half-Price Books
170. Hershey's Symphony bars. Anything that combines chocolate with musical words get major cool points in my book.
171.
I read an article not long ago that named the "true meaning of Christmas" as nostalgia. For the American mainstream I think someone has finally- and unfortunately- named the 'truth.' And what do I know? Perhaps for someone "It Must Have Been the Mistletoe" triggers warm fuzzies instead of the gag reflex.
My parents claim that my wrist problems are from typing too much. I hold this to be false. However, they got me "wrist pillows" for the keyboard and mouse for Christmas. Apparently this is humorous. Har har.
My final fish died this morning. It lasted a pretty long time for a fish. I got five of them in March of 2004. One died each week for the first three weeks that I had them, the the other two lived long and happy fish lives. One died two or three weeks ago and the other, obviously, this morning. It had some sort of odd fungus growing on it. Yuck. I rather miss watching the little guys, though.
Christmas break (or any break from regular routine), while quite enjoyable, is generally bad for me. I stayed up until 2:00 last night (a rare luxury), but (as fate would have it) woke up at 8:30. I certainly could have gone back to sleep, but some part of my cruel conscience convinced me that to sleep all day is a horrible waste of time and I ought to get up. So I got up around 9:15 and have tried to be productive today. I'm just about to go clean my room. Honest, I am. (Please ignore the fact that I'm still wearing pajama pants).
167. World Magazine
168. movie soundtracks
169. Half-Price Books
170. Hershey's Symphony bars. Anything that combines chocolate with musical words get major cool points in my book.
171.
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