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sleep by day, move at night

I've been in a...weird/bad bood for a couple of days, and I can't really explain why. And I can't sleep. (Ditto.)

I mean, I had kind of a busy weekend, with parents in town, the moving of summer wheels from a basement into storage, a terrible Carolina collapse against Georgetown (who I'm finding easy to hate again, like I did when I was 15). I also managed to let a domain of mine fall into the hands of a Sino-Caribbean holding company for at least the next year. And that's got me a little pissed too.

The weekend was really pretty good. I mean, Scooter Girl (who, though she understands a little something about screaming at the TV, was a real peach for sticking around through to the bitter end of overtime) and I got some pizza to take the sting out of the Heels loss, and I didn't go into the office on Monday, having already scheduled a day of writing documentation and getting roughed up by my accountant (on behalf of the IRS).

But it's now early Thursday, and there's an action-packed weekend in prospect: I'll be hanging out with/taking care of the eldest Lynch children, Remy and Otis; I might put my newly-liberated summer tires on the car; I'll dispassionately watch a couple of Final Four games (with no clue of whom to root for; can they all lose? No? Well, then UCLA, I guess...); Scooter Girl and I will get sweaty to the Nuyorican sounds of Antibalas at the Middle East, which will be super-awesome; and before that's over, it'll be April Fool's day, for fuck's sake.

And you know what April Fool's Day means....

But with all that in the pipeline, I'm still crabby; tired of "zones" (the Demilitarized, the Green...); fed up with politics and the DOJ and death and bent Ferraris and amendments and bills. And just....tired.


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