So Gothamist asked, "Do you remember your friends' phone numbers?" And, sadly, I don't. I wish I did. I used to take pride in knowing everyone's numbers. These days, I know my wife's cell number and, on good days, my sister's and my mom's. My dad's never took. Yet, I do still retain the digits of two of my best friends' houses, but only one would still do me any good. The other's parents have moved away, leaving their 8321 suffix embedded in my brain, unable to be defragmented.
If I were living in my bathtub for a week, that's what I'd use my time for -- memorizing phone numbers. That'd prove to be more useful going forward than knowing the presidents in order.
Gothamist had a post about tonight's spectacular sunset, which I saw ... from the windows of our kitchen at work. I was heating up my dinner around 8 p.m. when I saw a rosy sky to the west, a tint of pink on a water tower across the street. I tried to get a shot through the window with my phone, but it wouldn't focus on the sky to get the color. I could've come back to my desk to get my point-and-shoot, but I let it go. It only would've reminded me that I was here, in the office, instead of out there, somewhere.
A lot's been happening the past few months -- lo, all these months I've neglected to post anything. I don't know why. I've had ideas of things to say, adventures to describe, but by the time I've found myself in front of a computer, I've lost interest. So this time, I just decided to pound it out. Let's see if I can keep that going.