Wasteland

The cat keeps playing with my pencil (not a euphemism.) The pencil is not a toy. Neither are the rechargeable AA batteries, the CDs, or the computer's outboard speakers. Cats can make toys out of anything, but anything is usually something you don't want them playing with. I can imagine the batteries getting swatted off the desk into some inaccessible place, and the mouse going dead and me being unable to find the batteries. And speaking of the mouse, that's not a toy either. OK, the cat has to leave the room.

Better. Time-consuming, but better.

I left updating too late, and now the computer is doing some sort of maintenance on itself, so it's going very slow. I always forget that Wednesday evening is when the computer masturbates. Actually, I also forgot that this was Wednesday. The newspaper was late and then I forgot to read it. Still today has been better than yesterday, when I fell asleep while dinner was in the oven and it ended up way overcooked.

Crap! I must have left the door of the latch. The cat is back. Oops, there goes the modem. This just isn't going to work. Back to the television.