Now that I'm home, attached to my own personal Internet, in my own personal office, wouldn't you think I'd find posting to my blog so much more convenient? Considering how I griped and complained about having to go to the library or Panera's to use my computer, wouldn't you think that I would be posting daily? I suppose that a normal person would do that, but I have never been accused of normality. So here I am sitting in front of my computer - with basically nothing to say.
Actually, my mind is full of random thoughts and ideas. One of my favorite answers to the question, "What do you think?" is "Words and numbers". Well that's fine, but when those words and numbers can't be put together into an intelligent sentence, there you are.
One of the things on my mind these days is email forwards. I don't mind "all" forwards. Sometimes I read them; sometimes I just delete them. A lot depends on who they come from. I always read Nancy's forwards, mostly because she also sends me real email. You know, the kind saying how she's doing and asking how I'm doing, keeping me up to date with her life.
The ones I'm complaining about are the ones reminiscent of the old fashioned "chain letters". Send this to five people immediately or your brain will shrivel; if you don't want horrible boils all over your body, forward this to everyone on your address list, etc., etc. I can't begin to understand why normally sensible and intelligent people get hooked on this drivel. When I open one of these from a dear friend who almost never communicates with me, I want to rise up and shake her. Tell me your dreams, your hurts, your disappointments and joys; don't tell me I'm about to fall off the edge of the world.
You can tell how big a person is by what it takes to discourage him.