Ah, boredom.
Where would we be without you?
Oh yeah, that's right - we'd be having a good time.

I ate hot dogs for dinner. They didn't have Schneider's weiners at the grocery store, so I got Maple Leaf. What a mistake - by the third hot dog, I felt the way I logically should after a few helpings of warm rat entrails. (I don't know how Schneider's avoids that effect; maybe they're made from better-quality rat entrails.) What, oh what will I do with the rest of this package of weiners? Sigh.

What does it mean that I don't read the papers or watch the news?
I think it's possible to live your entire life looking out for number one. But I guess it's not a good idea. Logically, you should have to give as much as you take. What do I give? I could make you a long, detailed list of what I take, but what do I give?
It's pretty easy to have a high level of self-awareness when you're totally self-centred. It's not so easy to change.
I get philosophical once in a while, but it almost never changes anything in the way I live.
Don't worry - my journal entries will be light and fluffy again before you know it.

It's called walking pneumonia, and it sure do suck. Now my lung hurts if I turn over in bed. On the bright side, the doctor has me on some antibiotics that are giving me diarrhea. Yup, feeling pretty sexy right about now!

You know that feeling, like someone's sticking a knife in your ribs, on the right side of your chest? Yeah, you know the one. Well I've got that feeling right now, every time I cough or clear my throat or move too suddenly. I took two Advil over an hour ago, but they may as well have been candy. Maybe I should've tried six or eight.

For those of you who don't know yet, I bought Art. No, I didn't buy the rights to the name 'Art'; I bought a painting - my first ever, so I'm pretty excited. I'd been looking around for a painting to get, and I found one at this opening at the Swizzle gallery on College at Dufferin. The artist, Mark Ciale, dates my friend Dave, but that's not why I bought it. I guess it reached me. Mark's work has a sense of humour to it, but not an obvious one - that's what appeals to me. His paintings don't have titles, so I gave mine a name. It's about the size of a paperback. I won't bother describing it; I'd rather let you wonder what the hell could be on a painting that I named 'Nun Cake'...

Shit, I did it again - missed a day (I don't suppose I can somehow blame this on having to move the time forward).
I hope I'm not starting down a slippery slope, but maybe missing a day here and there should be expected. I mean, when you think about it, life is too unpredictible for me to be expected to remember or be able to write here every single day.
That being said, I'll continue to try to write here every day.