A case of the Wednesdays. You were warned.

I don't actually like facebook.

For the record.

(what's with the name, anyway? It's not the same as talking face-to-face, which is kinda the point, right? And it's nothing like a book. A book = smooth, lose-yourself-y. Facebook: choppy and distracting.)

But I like being up-to-date on the thoughts and happenings of my friends. And I boycott the phone. So what's a girl to do?

Today, for example, I had a lovely chat with Sharon on facebook. She complimented me on my hostessing prowess. I tried to convince her to sell her charming homemade accessories on Etsy. (Seriously, Sharon, you should not just give such jewels away! Unless it's to me. Of course.)

And Tamsin with a virtual yawn informed that her current status was: "...has never known longer days. SO bored."

To which I replied: "I'm bored, too, even though I'm busy at work." This was interesting to me. How was it that - even with the load of work I had before me - I was bored?

Because. The work I had before me was tedious and mundane. A lot of move this to here, change that, delete this, add that. Not exactly riveting stuff. My auto-typing hands and approximately one quarter of my brain could be occupied with the task at hand - and the rest of my brain (containing the more interesting, thoughtful parts) was free to wander.

only instead, it was shuffling about with a "ho" and a "hum".

"Maybe today is just a boring day" said Tamsin.

To which I replied: "Mayhap so. It is, after all, a Wednesday. Which puts things at exactly MIDDLE as far as weeks go."

Tamsin: "It's weird to me how the weeks are going so quickly right now, but each day seems to drag on forever."

Too right! I mean, where exactly did January go? And why is it that Thursday seems so desperately far away?

Tamsin is awaiting the arrival of Sprinkle. That sort of thing does seem to mess with the precise nature of the passing of time. I have nothing like her excuse.

Also: days are passing slowly, yet I can still never seem to get anything done = Unfair.

(Conscience: Yet you found time to make this pointless post instead of doing the dishes or grocery shopping or catching up on your correspondences or...

Me: don't talk.)

('don't talk' is the phrase Jamie and I came up with when we wanted to say 'shut up', but we didn't want to offend our mother. It's surprisingly effective when said in the same tone.)

Now that my conscience brings it up - this is a pointless post. For some reason, this pleases me. Good job on being pointless, Stepper. Things are usually too pointy, anyway.

Also: no sleep.

No sleep and boredom result in pointless posts like this one. So if you're still with me, I'll reward you by finishing with something clever.

Shawn said that his car needs new shoes. Isn't that clever?

He said so on facebook.