The Good Things

At the library - where I originally went to pick up tax forms but got distracted by all those books! - signing up for a library card* so I can check out Wil Wheaton's book Just a Geek.

Because I love him.

For so many reasons.

Which one day I'll be brave enough to share like he does.

*After a very minor hubbub over my Jersey license. So much better than the six forms of ID one has to provide to get an NYPL card. Yet another reason to love Kansas.

Flatbush

Half watching "The Real World - Brooklyn" and working on my resume (cuz nothing motivates one to be a productive member of society like an episode of "The Real World".) Missing New York. Wanting a tiny dog to name Brooklyn.

It's About Time

Actually, it's about 13 hours early.

Or 11 hours late depending on how you look at it.

Either way, it's not 2:55... yet.

About five years ago, I had a digital watch with an alarm that was inexplicably set for 2:55 p.m. Given my technical skill and general laziness, I never figured out (or bothered to figure out) how to reset it.

I was working odd hours then, so 2:55 was different every day. Sometimes I'd be running. Sometimes napping. Sometimes doing errands. Sometimes napping...

I started writing down where I was when the alarm went off. Often just short notes: “Emailing ex even though I know I shouldn't be.” or “Stuck on the entrance ramp to Rt. 1. U2 blaring from stereo. Bono says It's A Beautiful Day.” Sometimes I would scribble on the back of a gas station receipt for 30 seconds, sometimes I would write for two hours. Most entries were decidedly not great literature, but often they were much more interesting than I ever thought that moment would be.

And they made me realize that anything can lead to a story. They made me want to write. They made me think. Made me distinguish how this day - this moment - was different than the one preceding it and how it would be different than 2:55 the next day. Sort of time-lapse photography of my own life.

I didn't write every day. Some days the alarm woke me from a nap in the sun that wasn't worth stopping long enough to dig out a pen and paper. Some days I just couldn't find anything interesting to say about wandering through the produce aisle at the SuperFresh.

Eventually, the watch died or fell into the wrong hands. God knows with me. At any rate, I stopped my little 2:55 ritual. But like all good trends, I'm bringing it back.

It's about time.