For some reason (I can only assume because of my winning personality and Buddha-like humility), I've been really busy all the time after work. Always seems to be something to do - some, admittedly, I view as social obligations, but most are welcome opportunities. Whichever they be, the activities are preventing me from getting to the other things in life for which being unpopular used to free me up. I'm talking here about the administrative parts of life: food shopping, blog writing, clothes washing, house cleaning. Things which I generally take a lot of pleasure in (except the house cleaning), but which can always be 'done later.' Well, I've found that those things which are always able to be done later are just not getting done at all. And it's starting to be a problem.

The mountain of clothes in the corner of my room, for instance, has reached mammoth proportions. For a while I was blaming it on the fact that I threw my comforter in the laundry basket. But when I went to find a shirt this morning, I realized that the only things I had left were wife-beaters and a Monty Python "I'm a LumberJack" t-shirt. I was going to borrow a shirt from Sam, but (a) he's away for the week, and (b) I don't know how well an Avenged Sevenfold concert T is going to go over at the office. Although, I suppose there's a fairly large chance that no one would notice over the course of the day. In any case, the point is that I really need to do my laundry, and it just doesn't look like that's going to get to happen any time soon. Which is funny, because I don't even do my own laundry. Where do you really reach the pinnacle of pitiful? I've been dropping off my laundry for months, but I really believe that calling them to pick it up is really just going too far (especially when the laundromat is a block away). I'll think about it for a while.

I don't have to talk to you about blog writing - you know what this place has been like for the past while. If this blog were a town in the mid-west, you'd see tumbleweeds blowing past you right now. In fact, I think that's what blogs are - cyburban tumbleweeds.

My nutritional habits have become a serious problem. I haven't seen the inside of my kitchen for a long time. Well, I guess I go in there every once in a while, but it's usually just to see whether or not someone has dropped off a bunch of groceries for me. It's been a while since the answer has been yes (and actually, I think Sam would take issue with what I would describe as the only time it has happen. Something about the groceries not, stricly speaking, being 'for me.' It's been kind of ridiculous, actually. Since I get both breakfast (Raisin Bran and soy milk) and lunch (cans of tuna or chicken breast, soda, and chips) at the office, the only meal I really have to deal with in my life is dinner. And, as I found out, there are just all sort of places that will trade you food for money. I mean, I hear that there are a lot of these types of places. The only ones I've actually used are the Subway a few blocks away from my house, and Tortillas Bell (a delivery taco place. They take about 4 minutes to get to my apartment after I make the phone call, which scarcely gives me time to put on pants ['pants' referring of course to my pajamas] and get an episode of Futurama ready for prandial viewing). It's been (and honestly, this is no exaggeration) over two months since I had something different for lunch, and the set from which I select dinner has only had about 5 class members for that length of time as well. Thank goodness I have a constant desire to eat chicken ceaser salad - else I'd definitely have rickets by now.

Which doesn't even touch on the actual administrative work that has to be done (paying bills - which always gets done, but usually because all my bill paying is automatic these days, replying to email, making phone calls, etc), which is getting further and further away from me. But again, it's hard to complain. The things that have been preventing me from getting to this stuff are usually a really good time. Bar-B-Q's, brunches, poker nights (expect a blog entry on what I hope will be a regular poker game, coming soon) - it's a rock and roll lifestyle up in this house. Well, not so much 'in this house,' since no one will come out to Queens to help me indulge in my Andrew W.K.-style partying. But in general, you see where I'm going with all this.

Two other minor notes. The first is that I've gotten a set of snail mail addresses from people who are interested in a copy of the CD, and I'll be sending them out this weekend (this will count towards my getting some administrative stuff in life done, even though it's completely manufactured and doesn't actually need to be done). The next is - I woke up this morning, and put $0.75 in quarters in my back pocket (to buy a roll at the deli downstairs from my office, with which I make my tuna sandwich in the office pantry). When I got up from my desk to start my lunch-making process, I found that the three quarters I had put in my pocket were gone. Which sucked. But they had been replaced with a dollar bill, which confused me until I realized that the logical conclusion was that my pants were just generating interest. Which, I suppose, makes a lot of sense.