Dull

You'd think it would be easy to write one single sentence per day, wouldn't you?

I sit here looking at the screen and cannot think that I did anything today that was not utterly forgettable and insignificant. Lessee, hmm: wrote a few e-mails, went downtown and bought a Monitor Switch, went to work, came home, ate a sandwich, connected the Monitor Switch, it didn't work, disconnected it and packed it up for refund tomorrow morning, read some blogs and left a few comments, wrote this post. To be followed by brushing my teeth and reading in bed for half an hour.

The end.

I don't want to read that, why should you?

Perhaps I could tell you that the streetlight outside my window appears to have burned out just now, while I was writing that sentence. Actually no, the whole length of the street is dark: they've all gone out. Oooh, excitement!

I'm writing on Burton, looking over at the screensaver on Alberich which is playing random slides from my iPhoto library. There's some good stuff in there, if I do say so myself. Reminds me of many pleasant things recently: the train trip in March from Stuttgart (early spring) through Switzerland (dead of winter) to Menton (summer); St. Petersburg two years ago last summer (my sense of time has gone AWOL); a day with Slim and Larry at the petting zoo on the Killesberg; a happy hour on the beach in Venice last year, photographing the tiny perfect waves as they broke an inch high on the sand. Looked just like Venice Beach scaled down by 99%, a mite could have surfed it on a flake of dandruff.

News flash: the streetlights are on again. Order and accord are re-established, trouncing the Second Law of Thermodynamics - for now.