Uncategorized

Homer: Aw, twenty dollars! I wanted a peanut!

Homer’s Brain: Twenty dollars can buy many peanuts!

Homer: Explain how!

Homer’s Brain: Money can be exchanged for goods and services!

Homer: Woo hoo!

– The Simpsons

This wasn’t by design, but I’ve had nothing to eat all day but a couple of breath mints and a Dr. Pepper I snagged from a soda machine in the building next door (our break room is empty; our own soda machine was unplugged). I tried going to lunch, and, despite the awful snow-choked roads and brakes that weren’t always as responsive as I’d like, I made it as far as the nearby Burger King. But, once there, I discovered that I only had one measly, wrinkled dollar bill left in my wallet and so I turned tail and headed back to work. Of course, now that I think about it, I realize I also had ten dollars worth of quarters in a roll in my jacket pocket, three of which I used later to buy my soda. I’m starting to feel pretty foolish for not exchanging them for food. Breath mints are not what I would call filling.

You know, I honestly don’t think I watch a lot of movies. Then a month goes by and I realize I have eleven new films to list in the sidebar and I’m going to have to think of something interesting to say about each one. This partly accounts for my reliance on quotes from critics like Roger Ebert.

As always, make of these reviews what you will. I sometimes wonder if anyone’s ever rented a movie based on these little capsule recommendations of mine. I would certainly be interested to know what any of my one or two readers think about these films.

I have made no formal New Year’s resolutions. The ones I made last year will have to serve. If I fail in them…well, then it will be a noble failure. I have some ideas, some plans I’ve been kicking around, and if nothing else they should keep me writing. I will endeavor to write more this year. I will try to finish what I start.

Right now, though, I’m faced with the knowledge that I can’t put off sleep for much longer. I do not want to go to bed, because, if I do, then I will have to go to work in the morning.

I may also have to attend a funeral tomorrow evening for a coworker’s young son, and that seems like a terrible way to start the new year. I can barely imagine that kind of loss, the sort of grief that accompanies the death of a child. I want to extend my sympathies, but I don’t want to attend the services if I’m not wanted there. I don’t know this man terribly well — I never even knew his son’s name, much less that he was sick — and I don’t want to intrude if the family would rather keep its grief private. I suppose there is no right or wrong response — and this should be about them, not me — but I do not know what I will do.

And so I’ve been sitting here for half an hour now, typing and retyping these lines, avoiding sleep even as I feel it creeping closer. I don’t feel ready to face these particular parts of the new year. I don’t want to go to work tomorrow, which my clock now informs me is today. I just want to sleep late, stay in bed, and avoid the messiness that comes with life.

But I guess vacation time is over. Time to see what 2003 is really made of.

They say you were something in those formative years

Hold onto nothing as fast as you can

Well, still, pretty good year.

— Tori Amos, “Pretty Good Year”

Happy New Year, everyone. Welcome to 2003.