Back in the USA

I've been back in the states for some number of months now. I've been bored for most of them, so I try not to keep track of the exact number, lest I become morose. I don't want to make excuses for myself, but something is preventing me from getting a job. Something......sinister.

So, between my unemployedness (not yet a real word) and disinclination to do much of anything, really, I have had some free time.

After memorizing John Hodgman's list of 700 hobo names I still had some time left over, and my time-killing weapon of choice has been senselessly antagonizing my father by deliberately making inflammatory political statements.

Now it is very late and Phoebe is sleeping on the floor next to my chair. She has a blanket, although I'm not sure from (participle firmly undangled) where it came, which, now that I think about it, is somewhat unsettling. She is also farting a lot in her sleep; it is her unsubtle way of telling me it's time to go to bed.