Unbelievable Inertia

I've spent this whole day, and most of yesterday too, doing, well, nothing. Not one wretched thing unless you count reading The Wonder Boys (fabulous book! Why had I never read it before?) and surfing the internet and spending a desultory half hour pulling weeds out of the vegetable garden. True and terrible confession: it's 5:30 pm and I am still in my pajamas. That is bad, very bad. It's like I've caught A's lethargy - for all that I love her dearly I must say that she might be the laziest most lethargic person in the world, although lately I'm giving her a run for her money. The dog hair piles up on the floor; the dishes pile up in the sink - fuck it. And when I did sit down to actually work on the computer this afternoon it, infected by my ennui no doubt, promptly crashed.

Also, I seem to have lost my little green flash drive (I never know if the proper term is flash drive or thumb drive, but anyway, one of these) and it had all my code from my DHTML/CSS/Javascript class on it and last night when I went to class, late and furious because I couldn't find it, I was bereft. I have been slowly building the Ugliest Site in the World ® on that drive and it was just getting good. It used five different fonts and about a thousand patterns and colors, from screeching green to fluourescent pink; the text wobbled all over the place and, best of all, when the viewer, all unsuspecting, moved his or her mouse across it rude messages on pop up windows and sudden images of dogs appeared. All it needed was some embedded .midi files and possibly a picture of a kitten in a party hat and it would have been perfect. Damn, damn, damn.

Argh!! As I went to correct some typos on this post (blogger was having issues earlier) and add a link to The Wonder Boys, I discovered that Michael Chabon is exactly, but exactly, my age. God I can't stand people who are my age and successful; for some reason it's just so disheartening. He published his first novel in 1988! Help! In 1988 I was working at a health food store, living in a commune out in the country, raising a 5 year old, painting, making a few lame batiks & tie dyes, learning to weave, pretending to be going to school to become an art teacher, having severe agoraphobia and contemplating moving to New York. Hmmm. Perhaps I was too busy to publish a novel that year. There is that.