After convincing most every one I know to join the club, I myself am finally a member due to my wife’s mischievious machinations. You see, last night, her and I exchanged Christmas gifts…
My gift was sixty gigabytes big.
Never been moved to tears by a gift before. My eyes a-twinkle with unaccustomed wetness, I gingerly unwrapped my black beauty and gazed, for what seemed hours, upon its flawless ebony face. So precious…
Dear? I am indebted. Thank you.
My life’s become a black hole of Civilization 4, lesson planning, and sleeping… though, admittedly, Civ4 possesses the strongest pull as even the need for work-related productivity and sleep–not to mention, you know, speaking to my wife–have taken a backseat to my burning urge to re-shape countless worlds in my image.
Oi.
Case in point: you’d think that, after waiting a decade to see Nine Inch Nails in concert, I’d have more to say than “it was good. Excellent, even.” It’s true: I do have more to say but, frankly, I can’t find the inclination nor the time to share my thoughts in greater detail. I mean, what am I supposed to do? There’s a brave new world out there, ripe for the taking… and I’ve got to be quick, or the heathen Mongols will beat me to it.
Now, if you’d excuse me, I really do need to get some work done before I’m completely mired in missed deadlines.
