the wayside

For any of you still out there, who maybe swing by and check this thing on your way to more promising sites, thank you. I realize I have fallen by the cyber-wayside. I have gone the way of probably 97.47 (according to recent surveys) per cent of bloggers who started their own sites in the last two years.

In an effort to motivate myself to be amore regular blogger, I am going to stop putting the pressure of posting something brilliant (as if any of my past entries were) and focus on a casual relation of facts, thoughts, and observations. Other bloggers have tried to solve their problems by changing blog servers or domains or whatever it is...I cannot so easily fool even myself. I am simply changing strategy, staying one step ahead of my apathy.

Here is my plan. I leave for The States on Wednesday morning at 2 AM to fly out of Bucharest at about 6-ish something that morning. A brief layover in Frankfurt and I will be on my way home to the sweet sunny South. It is now Monday night at 10:23. I will stay up for another 7 hours and go to bed around 5 AM. That's about 10 PM Eastern time. Then I go to sleep for a very reasonable seven hours or so. I awake at 1 or so in the afternoon, do a little packing. Do a little shopping. Tidy up around the place and maybe go for a run. Take care of last minute business. My ride to the Airport comes at 2, and I stay awake for the whole ride down. I stay awake, very important, all the way until I get on the plane in Frankfurt. From thence I will sleep as if it is midnight or so in the States and I have a night's rest awaiting me. Pay no attention to the stewardesses serving peanuts, biscuits, trays of packaged, carefully preserved aluminum food. Sleep. Sleep because that's what decent people do at night. Never mind that the sun has already begun rolling along its diurnal course and is burning through the same clouds through which you are flying. You have shutters for this very reason. You wake up in a few hours, "with the chickens," (*nota bene: chickens are no longer allowed on international flights according to FDA and PITA, I imagine, regulations) and wait. When you get off the plane, it really feels like 2 PM. You are ready to go eat at the OK Cafe on your way out of Atlanta. After all, you have been silently turning down food on the flight for the last 8 hours or so. Wake up! Welcome home.

Great blog entry. Gimme five.