2002-12-10-2:47 a.m.

Not that I'm not interested, that I've no time.

No time to write, or think, or see, or smell, or feel life at the moment.

That's all. Simply put.

Work work work work work, and then work. That is my lot in life.

"It's not a lot...but it's our life" -A Bug's Life

I'm the red and black antennaed ant in the song Dave Matthews sings.

"They all do it the saaaaame wayyyy..."

My shoulder is having problems, Ginny seems to think it's a pinched nerve, my hand falls asleep constantly. I'm beginning to think she's right, though, I'm not sure what to do about it.

How do you un-pinch a nerve?

A doctor I'm not.

Nor am I making any attempt to make any sense whatsoever.

Sense is saved for the reasonable and reasonable I'm not, unruly like my hair is what I am. So senseless is what I shall be.

Brambles and rambles and finks and foggles.

A Fraggle is what I long to be.

d.