Rebelling

I'm sitting here, half-working and chatting with friends far away, when the idea occurs to me to grab some Chipotle for dinner, to sit and eat and enjoy, and walk next door to Starbucks. I spy the clock. Almost quarter to seven.

The thought races between the ears, "I can't--I've got to get home to watch TV." I go over the list. There's "The Biggest Loser" and "Gilmore Girls" from seven to eight. There's "House" from eight to nine. I'm sure there's something else at nine.

Then, the counter-thought explodes, "Wait a minute--I'm letting TV dictate my schedule! Bump that mess."

So I think I've decided to finish my current work thing (another twenty minutes or so), hop on the train northbound instead of south, grab a burrito, and sit down with a mocha frap and read Karamazov (which is turning into an amazing book).

Of course, by the time I get to the train, I may just chuck the plain for a sandwich at home. But it won't be because of television, by gum!


...Of course, if it were Thursday, things would be different.