I’ve been having this intense e-mail exchange with a ladeez that has sapped me of any leftover creativity and cleverness for the blog.

For instance, it took me 3 attempts to write the above sentence.

More importantly, my replacement TV is rolling its way across the Great Plains to instantly, upon its arrival, transform my place into a pimp palace. All I need now is the pimp.

People are pretty sick of me mentioning the fire; which just serves to illustrate that peoples’ tolerance for tragic events is only the initial sting, not the long-term consequences. All told, it will have been nearly 6 months since the fire, and things are still not back to normal… or better than normal which is what I’m going for. I have very little to complain about, of course. I have a home, and all of the necessities, plus a few non-necessary ones… and I’m not really complaining now, just listing the facts.

I wonder what will happen, actually, when I do get TV back. Will I watch 8 hours a day? Will I instantly surround myself with Lost and American Idol and Oprah? Or will I eschew TV and take advantage of the weaning that I was forced to go through? I hope it’s the later, ’cause I still have a lot of crap to take care of.