Jeff currently has a story-snippet posted on his blog that's incredibly well-written. Even knowing, as I always have, what he is capable of, I am taken aback by it- the precise vocabulary, the vivid mood, his ability to put so much into so little. Right now, I am wishing I were half the writer he was.

I'm also, however, wishing I weren't at work, so I don't have time to sit around and praise friends and ex-lovers and the like. I must start cooking up a storm.

Big day today, though. Even if not for the fact that I should be working, it's probably best that iron out all the potentially wrinkled edges before going and making the events of this evening public domain....I don't know if that even made sense. I've been awake for 35 straight hours...which isn't as impressive as I thought it would be...but I've got five hours left of my shift, and a fe things to take care of before I can go home and finally find my bed....and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep....

Fucking poem. On with it.