A Splintered Mind

Again it is Wensday and I am looking at the sands of the hourglass piling up against me. My shift starts in a few hours, so of course this was a perfect time to get distracted researching whether "Terra Nova" was renewed for another season or not. I was depressed; I needed the distraction. Right? I've been working on a review of Apple iOS 5's Reminder program. I've run the app through its paces and come up with a list of strengths and weaknesses. Unfortunately, I've been swamped with life, work, &c. and found myself missing that self-imposed Wensday deadline every week. When was the last time I wrote here anyway? 1998? I can't recall. So, obviously I'm not writing. What have I been doing?

Originally published at Absentminded Author, v2 . A thick, milky fog rolled in tonight from winters past, burying my apartment complex with sudden mystique. There is something about a cold, December fog that adds mood to humdrum landscapes. Perhaps it is the way everything is hidden in patches of silhouette and light, and buildings, partially revealed, take on the air of shapes that aren’t quite entirely in our world. It gives my mind nourishment for the imagination. I look upon my night in wonder, but inside I am harrowed up and troubled. If you had told me I would be working at Bigbox Bullseye at 44 years old, I would have thought you were being needlessly cruel. I had big plans for my life. I was going to shake the world to its foundation. Who would pursue a world shaking career in retail? Plenty of people, apparently. My job is filled with dozens of friendly, busy people who dart about making the Bigbox Bullseye a magical place for all its happy guests. Each guest service lead ...