I'm working tonight... for years, I covered this particular Sunday night to allow one of my co-workers to attend a party that his daughter throws. I used to enjoy going out to watch the game- most of the bars around me run food and drink specials, and it's a great night to meet women. Nowadays, I just can't be arsed caring... chalk it up to reading Guy Debord's Society of the Spectacle. A billion-dollar testosterone-and-consumerism extravaganza played at ear-splitting volume? Maybe I'll just have a nice, quiet night on the job.
I can't even get excited about groundhog day, since my rodentine nemesis kicked the bucket over three years ago.
It is Candlemas... and that's a good Lovecraftian day. Of course, by Candlemas, I mean it's Imbolc... Syrbal-Labrys, hanging out in her labyrinth, is the go-to blogger on Imbolc.
Yeah, there's something going on tonight, alright, but I'm opting out. I'll be sitting here at my desk watching an old Wire performance:
So much for a quiet night...