My motorcycle battery died, so I was in a massive rush to get home and scramble to Berkeley by 6:30.
Work still sucks. And I was late coming in.
On the way home, my car's "check engine" light came on, and I don't know what I'm going to do about repairing it while trying to get my bike dealt with.
But y'know, I just don't feel very attached to most of my day-to-day activities. It was about time to get the car serviced, I've just been lazy. The bike thing may keep my off my bike for a couple of days but that's about the worst of it. And work -- it sucks, sure, but then I care less.
I feel like sort of a weenie -- things haven't been really, really good for me for quite awhile, and things are never all that bad. I guess I'm just wishy-washy rather than melodramatic and angst-ridden. If they ever make a movie of my life, I'm seeing Kevin Spacey ala "American Beauty" as me. Or at least, as the current me. I don't know who would have played me-in-college. A young Christopher Walken, perhaps.
Eh, whatever. Back to work.