You don't realize just how enticing it is even knowing you have an outlet for your thoughts until you're sitting at your desk at work at about 3PM. The work is automatic plug-n-chug (hey, I did that once! --shut up. ) and the subroutines start running and the imagination wanders.
Suddenly I want to be walking down the street and reviewing the tables of vagabond vendors with their suspicious copies of "Hitch" and bars of "Black Soap." I'd like to go looking for my favorite comic book panels to comment on. My love of classic ad imagery is percolating, sparked by pictures of "Barilla" over at Design Cincinnati. A rhapsody to the fifteen minute lunchroom nap is being composed... a rhapsody of discord since mine was interrupted by a co-worker heating up a tray of Dinty Moore that smelled just like a fresh diaper, weirdly plastic. Yeah, seriously, never eating Dinty Moore, ever. Ever. EVER.
Or maybe I just wanna look for job listings... then nudie pics when those start to scare me with their scarsity and limitations...
So much to do. So much to think about. But miles to type before then...
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