January 10, 2000
I could talk about my day, but I'd have to describe the feeling of being buried under a ton of paperwork, clawing my way through it, only to have two more tons dropped on my head. I got a loaner machine from my copier guy, and all that means is more work, catching up on the copying I couldn't do without one. When the best part of your day is a visit from an insurance agent, you might think you should have stayed in bed.
I could talk about the weather, but it's winter. It isn't even the rain that gets to me, it's that it's so dark all the time, like an endless night. And this was only the first day we've had this weather. Living with this until spring is about as appealing as wading across an ocean.
I could talk about my health, but we don't want to go there again. Every good day gives way to a setback. I no longer have time to let the bad days slow me down, so I'm doing my best to ignore them. However, I sincerely apologize to anyone I might have come in contact with the last few days (even that insurance guy). I really thought I was over it.
I could talk about the news, but then I'd have to ask: When Steve Case owns everything, will everything work as badly as AOL? (Why does that question sound so familiar? Didn't we use to ask it about some other fellow? Bill something, wasn't it?) If we funnel the information superhighway down to few enough lanes, there will be enough business for the big guys that they won't have to do anything right.
While I'm on the news, I might as well say it: Please send Elian home. He's been used as a political object for long enough. He belongs with his father. Isn't that obvious? What more is there to think about?
Anyway. I don't really want to talk about any of that stuff, so check back tomorrow.