The Complete Idiot's Guide to the Way I Feel

or felt....

Pooped, because I did eight hours of freelance work over the weekend. That's a full day, though it was spread out over two. But even when I wasn't working, I was thinking and worrying about it, which means I didn't really have a weekend at all.

Strangely entertained. My wyfe somehow got discount tickets to a performance in NYC last weekend called Gazillian Bubble Show, in which a fellow of Chinese extraction, who said he was born in Serbia, but had a thoroughly American accent, blew huge soap bubbles on stage using enormous bubble wands. And I mean gigantic bubbles -- he invited children onstage and encased four of them at once inside a bubble. Strobe lights, a fog machine, lasers, and a pounding disco soundtrack added to the entire effect. I hadn't wanted to go, thinking it was some kiddie show (exclusively), but I ended up impressed by the showmanship. And the bubbles. I also wondered how someone could have discovered such a talent and entered into such a peculiar line of work.

Ambivalent about the crocuses that are already blooming in our backyard. Already. In February. What does this very warm winter presage about the summer ahead? Venusian temperatures, I fear....