still wandering in the night

It's as if a spouse or dearest friend has left the building. Each time I enter the kitchen, my heart beats faster, time to check email, go on-line to read the "New York Times" or watch Jon Stewart or some YouTube films or music or to go to writing blogs or websites and be inspired, but mostly to write to and hear from friends, colleagues, students, every hour on the hour ... but no. There's no MacZine. No internet. I found an internet basement dive on Parliament Street where I go once a day to check email, but luckily, today, my neighbours have let me back in. A homeless waif, netless.

But my office is spiffy, all cleaned up, I'm getting filing done, lots of reading and sorting. So there is an up side.

Did you see the picture of Bev Oda, sneaking a smoke behind the Parliament buildings? This is a cabinet minister?! Do what depths have we fallen?

And now, after this searing bit of prose, back to my lonely house.