On the road again... just can't wait to get on the road again...
Can I use that? Eh. Whatever. Kenny Rogers isn't going to read this. Or is it Willie Nelson? Uh oh. Him I'd better watch out for. He's broke. At least, that's what they said on that Superbowl ad.

I've had a week. Ever have one of those weeks where you're being pushed so hard and so far and there's no sex involved? Ok. So I really don't want to have sex with the people who were pushing me. Not all of them, at least. But don't tell anyone I said that.

I think it was about last Wednesday (Huh. More than a week ago. Guess I've had a long two weeks.) that I turned to someone and said, "You know, I think I'm just going to go insane. Do you mind? It means you'll probably have to fax that yourself."

Think about it. Padded rooms, soft lighting, three square meals a day, lots of silence, no responsibilities, no expectations. Okay. Some expectations, but ones that you can live up to... drooling, screaming, kicking, hair pulling, bursting into song.

We are the champions... my friend... and we'll keep on fighting, 'til the end...
I actually have "Bohemian Rhapsody" going through my head, but I couldn't spell any of the words.

I got the idea of going insane from listening to Douglas Adams reading excerpts of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on tape. My tape. Two of them. He's on both. Reading excerpts. Before he died, of course. If he died. I got the idea of listening to the tapes because I just finished The Salmon of Doubt, and miss Douglas Adams terribly. If you like him and haven't read it, I recommend it.

Anyway, at one point, after Arthur Dent has been stuck on prehistoric Earth for a long, long time, he decides that to alleviate his boredom, he's going to go mad. (He's British, so he can say that.) Except his friend Ford Prefect shows up and stops him. Ford's already tried going mad, and quite enjoyed pretending to be a lime, jumping in and out of a gin and tonic, or at least a lake that thought it was a gin and tonic.

Okay
Okay, may I take a quick break and say that I haven't been paying full attention to Angel (WB Wednesday night!), and suddenly they're all reading a mysterious language off a dead guy's butt? Huh. I guess my road to insanity is going faster than I thought.

Where was I? Oh yes. Why couldn't I think of pretending to be a lime and jumping in and out of a gin and tonic? Or at least a vodka and tonic, since gin doesn't agree with me. How fun would that be?

Instead, I went insane the boring way. I sat at my desk all day and laughed at people whenever they walked by. Sometimes, I talked to the phone without picking it up. That was fun. I had a long conversation with the photocopier, and it shut down for two days. Come to think of it, so did the entire company's server. Hmm... maybe reading the Star Wars books is bringing out the Force in me! Or maybe I'm becoming Marvin, the super-boring android.

Okay Again
Okay, here's another point of insanity: I'm no longer sure if I'm watching Angel or Indiana Jones. Examples: Puzzle of religious letters to press in the right order... touch pads on the floor that release flying spears/arrows... both father and son have the hots for the same woman. I know. That third one isn't exactly it, but if Cordy sleeps with Angel, he loses his soul. Which is actually what I thought tonight's episode was all about, but no Angelus yet, damnit! Just more proof that Cordy is pregnant in real life.

Um. Show's over now. Wow. I love this show...

Sorry. I have to go now. The box of Cheerios to my left says so. I'll come back if my sanity returns.