The sad truth: I'm out of books.
I have nothing left to read. I've plowed through everything on my bookshelf and every poker magazine I can get my hands on. Sitting on the can is now a quick in-and-out affair. I'm quite bummed by this development--usually I have my timing down better and just about the time I finish off my current book, the fine folks at Amazon and UPS conspire to deliver my next volume.
I guess I didn't account for how much free time I'd have this past weekend, and well, here we are, browsing around on Amazon like a hyperactive kid loose in a candy store, pointing and saying I want that! I want that! Oh, I've got stuff on the way, but it won't be here until Wednesday at the earliest, more likely Thursday.
So instead of reading today, I watched a little bit of TV, of course, but then I dragged a huge Rubbermaid storage tote out of the closet and started going through my CDs. Y'all know about my recently-gained affinity for old 60's lounge music, so I dug up all that I had on hand. And then I spent most of my afternoon ripping them to my computer and organizing them. Once that was all done, I compiled it all into one huge playlist called 'Martini Time' and copied it onto my iPod.
I wanted to do the same thing with all of my Eighties music, but that's gonna have to wait until tomorrow--I've been sitting in one place for so long that my ass is asleep. But now I am up to my ears into skinny-tie and indoor-smoking music. Ooh, and the new season of Mad Men starts tonight, too... I may have to pour myself a Manhattan and bust open a pack of Lucky's.
Mikey
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