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 Moidah, I tells ya. Moidah. I loath Three-Column Tuesdays. But! Today had some unusual compensation. Gnat was at a playdate; my wife was picking her up, so I went to the office to write. Had supper at the cafeteria. Engaged in office banter with a co-worker. That last one felt particularly rare. You never notice how much you miss the pleasant banalities of the office until you’re deprived of them entirely; then you notice you really don’t miss them that much, if at all. But near my veal pen are some clever folk. Of all the offices I’ve ever had, the Strib is the most agreeable. Not the most exciting, but agreeable.
I was done with my work around seven, as was the guy at the next desk, the paper’s TV critic. We went down to Kieran’s for a drink. (Cruel web page; it looks like a Magic Eye picture for drunks who couldn’t focus on anything anyway) Grand time. Two hours of yelling about movies and TV. Two hours, one drink. Which testifies to A) my ability to pace myself when I drive, B) the Irishness of the portion size, or C) the fact that I also drank six cups of coffee. The poor man’s speedball! Plus two small cigars. Two! Twice the nightly ration. A hellbent night, I tell you.
So that’s the excuse for a typically short Wednesday entry. Oh, uh, and I was chopping down trees, too. With an emery board. Anyway, here’s this week’s addition: depressing Kennedy-era children’s multimedia. See you tomorrow.
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