Popsicle Toes

I've just been staring at this stupid blank blogger screen for about 25 minutes. Not a good sign. Most times, I have something of utmost importance upon which I would extol, or at the very least my OCD kicks in and I manically start filling in that blank, empty post space. But then I realized: I could either just shrug and admit I have nothing to discuss, or I could shrug, admit I have nothing to discuss, and then write an entire post about how I've got nothing to post. Oh, the irony!

Or... maybe not. Because that might be boring.

So instead, for your personal edification, just a few of the reasons for the March Slump of 2007:

Chance of freezing to death in the night: 50%
Temperature: teeth chattering
Hours of sleep last night: 4
Number of groundhogs I plan on killing, if I ever get the chance: 1
Number of internet servers situated directly behind my desk that sound like they're about to blow up, complete with a high-pitched whining noise that stabs into my brain like a rusty knife: 1
Irritability factor: high

I don't think I can take much more of my own bitching without being pushed over the proverbial edge into the not-so proverbial Crazy Town.

One shining ray of hope to save an otherwise frostbitten day: California Guitar Trio is playing the Regattabar tonight and if C can drag himself out of that sorry-ass place he calls work at a reasonable hour I think I might manage to once again be graced by their melodic tunes. Keep your fingers crossed for me. I'm out.