Brain confused. Confused and sad.

Mine, too.

An independent bookstore dude talks about chasing shoplifters: [link]

There's an underground economy of boosted books. These values are commonly understood and roundly agreed upon through word of mouth, and the values always seem to be true. Once, a scruffy, large man approached me, holding a folded-up piece of paper. "Do you have any Buck?" He paused and looked at the piece of paper. "Any books by Buckorsick?" I suspected that he meant Bukowski, but I played dumb, and asked to see the piece of paper he was holding. It was written in crisp handwriting that clearly didn't belong to him, and it read:

1. Charles Bukowski

2. Jim Thompson

3. Philip K. Dick

4. William S. Burroughs

5. Any Graphic Novel

This is pretty much the authoritative top five, the New York Times best-seller list of stolen books. Its origins still mystify me. It might have belonged to an unscrupulous used bookseller who sent the homeless out, Fagin-like, to do his bidding, or it might have been another book thief helping a semi-illiterate friend identify the valuable merchandise.

It's Monday again, isn't it?

Yes. Yes it is.

I am so gronked today my eyes are crossing. It can't just be DST - I got a good night's sleep (so good that my alarm woke me up for the first time I can remember in forever), and I felt fine getting up at the usual time on Sunday. I'm blaming Monday. And society.

Dana, it's practically a haiku:

Morning dark - alarm
clock goes off. Brain confused, sad.
Snooze button evil.

I'm blaming Monday. And society.

I blame kids these days, and the music they listen to.

And dirty hippies.

Ooh, it's Nilly!

Yeah - the complete dark when I woke up was not at all fun.

I napped on Saturday to counteract DST and then went to bed at 9:30 last night. I am resigned to just not getting much done around the house this week, becuase I plan to get in bed by 10 every night.

Stupid DST.

Not only was it pitch black out when I woke up and for an hour (at least) afterwards - it's SNOWING.

I'm blaming Monday. And society.

I blame kids these days, and the music they listen to.

And dirty hippies.

You guys, everything is *my* fault!

Only, um, I'm not society (I'm hardly psychology, being the only one me that I am), definitely not music (not with my tone-deafness and can't-sing-to-save-my-life), a kid only anywhere outside of my ID and birth certificate, and, um, hopefully I shower enough not to be dirty. So you're probably not talking about me, right?

[Edit: our DST didn't start yet, but we already had our first scorcher of the year.]

[Another Edit to wave at tommy - how are you doing?]

Nilly, believe me, you do not want to take the blame for Mondays. That's a whole lotta blame. And pain.

Also, "Hi Nilly!"