Daywaste

Sluggish, my brain is. I had trouble falling asleep last night, was assaulted by a series of stressful dreams (about airplane crashes and injured kittens), and somehow managed to set my alarm to wake me three hours before I wanted to be awakened. adfamiliares is bone-weary as well, probably with a better excuse.

Nevertheless, tonight we drove half an hour to Albany to shop at the big mall, because

1. the gaming store was going out of business and selling everything half off,


2. I wanted to visit the Apple store to get a case for my iPod, a multibutton mouse, and a wrist-supporting mousepad, and


3. adfamiliares wanted shoes and clothes and such.
   

Needless to say, the gaming store had already gone out of business, the Apple store purchases were not, and adfamiliares was unable to find anything she liked. So we return home, defeated. I nearly bought Girl Scout cookies, to give the trip some purpose, but I was about 50¢ short.

Elsewhen this week, I've working a lot—more than 150% of my previous work schedule, to store up nuts for the coming winter (which, ironically, will actually be in the spring)—playing the old-skool computer RPG Avernum, and once again digitizing my Dr. Demento tapes. Probably it was one of Dr. D's songs, 1936's Mr. Ghost Goes To Town by the 5 Jones Boys, that kept me from sleeping—that perky bassline is impossible to expunge from your consciousness.