Some more alone time
It's just me and the kids, again, as The Wife and the Champion Dog traipse across Texas to fulfill champion-dog dreams. In a disappointing development, the Champion Dog is injured; the best veterinary minds in Texas can't seem to agree on the source of the injury. The Wife's actual purpose for the trip is to evaluate a potential replacement for the Champion Dog. This is sad; dogs aren't exactly cars or computers, and despite the fact that this dog came with a warranty of sorts, replacing it isn't as easy as calling Customer Service and trading it in. The Wife has developed a fully justifiable attachment to the Champion Dog, and this recent development has been quite difficult for her.

Now that brings me back to me, and to some sort of explanation as to why I'm sitting in front of this machine at this hour instead of sleeping. I haven't figured that one out myself. It could be that I continue to pursue some of that long-lost creativity, trying to figure out any 19-year-old with Internet access can turn out something interesting and I continue to produce dreck. (What if I had been a 19-year-old with Internet access? No, let's not go there.)

I used to be quite creative. I was probably more creative back when I was a little more of an asshole, back when I didn't really care that much what others thought, when I didn't know well enough to be embarrassed at suggesting a bad idea. Now, not so much. I've partitioned my brain so many ways as to render it mostly unusable.

Anybody know where I can get software to defragment my brain?