My apologies to everyone who wept in front of their computers for several hours yesterday waiting for me to live blog, but I had to take the day off. I was suffering from a major case of writer’s block.

Oh, sure, I could have faked it. I could have rambled incoherently about this or that, but that would have been a disservice to all of you. There is a certain level of awesomeness expected when I blog. Am I right?

I almost did write something late yesterday, though. My dad relayed to me something that happened when he was at an airport last week. It was hilarious, but after giving it more than two seconds of thought I decided there was no way I was going to blog about it. This is a family-friendly blog, and what happened at the airport, while funny, was most definitely not family friendly!

I’m all about the keeping it clean and the not shattering of innocence.

You’re welcome, people.

11:16 AM

I saw the new James Bond movie, Quantum of Solace, over the weekend. It was surprisingly good.

I say surprisingly because the plot made about as much sense as the title. Seriously, I have no idea what “quantum of solace” means and I’d be hard pressed to explain the plot of the movie to anyone. There was a lot of action and fight scenes…um, there were explosions…oh, and it had pretty girls in it. Bond flies a plane in the movie. And I think he was a vigilante at one point.

Honestly, I don’t know what was going on.

I equate watching it with having an attractive, female Spanish or Latin professor in college. At the end of class you don’t know what the heck was said or what happened, but you don’t really care.

Of course, if there is going to be a test later, I’m so going to fail.

1:19 PM

I can think of absolutely nothing interesting to write. I’m tempted to turn myself into bait and go hang out in the break room. That young co-worker of mine will inevitably stop by, and then I’ll have something interesting to relay to all of you.

Will she spill hot coffee on me? Will she trip and twist her ankle? Will she attempt to make small talk by complimenting my nose and ears? Inquiring minds want to know.

1:46 PM

Hmmm. She was a no show. Does she still work here? I haven’t seen her since last week. Perhaps she thought someone in upper management was me from behind, and she caused him to scald himself with hot coffee? I hope that’s not the case. I’d feel partly responsible…

3:00 PM

Are online chatrooms still around? Beats the heck out of me. I remember being 19 and visiting them fairly regularly in my AOL (America Online) days.

I’d people watch. I’d see the horrific spelling. I’d see the incredibly lame attempts by guys to pick up girls. It’s a chatroom, guys. I’d say there is a 50% chance the “girl” you are talking to is really a dude.

One memory I have of my chatroom days is when I’d go to a particular chatroom and find it practically empty. There’d be one lonely soul inside it. Lord knows what he was doing in there. Waiting for the party to arrive perhaps? Beats me. I just remember thinking a person had to be pretty sad and pathetic to sit alone in a chatroom.

Where am I going with this?

Live blogging when no one is reading what you write or leaving you comments is very similar to sitting in a chatroom by yourself.

It’s time for me to sign off.

6:41 PM

Okay, so immediately after “signing off” earlier, I left work and went home. I was/am not feeling well, and I just wanted to fall into bed and sleep.

I entered my bedroom to find a chunk of my ceiling in the floor.

“That’s odd,” I thought to myself.

My brain wasn’t functioning properly, so I did not process the possible reasons WHY a five-yard by one-yard chunk of my previously pristine ceiling was now in my formerly pristine floor. So, I cleaned up the mess, took out my contact lenses, and collapsed into bed.

When I awoke ten minutes ago, I hear a drip-drip sound. Blind as a bat, I gingerly made my way out of bed and into the bathroom to put in my contacts. After doing so I see a fairly-large puddle of water in my floor underneath the hole in my ceiling.

I also see my small heater plugged into the electrical outlet, turned on, and standing at the edge of the puddle. I quickly leap to unplug it — thankful to God that I had not yet been electrocuted.

After splashing water on my face to better wake myself up, I walk out of the bathroom and notice my heater STILL turned on. Apparently, I had unplugged the wrong chord.

So, I yet again leap to unplug the heater before becoming electrocuted.

In short, I’ve had a craptacular day.

I’m cursed.

And that is never a good thing.