What a waste.

When the lights went out, Zack sprung into action: Quick, light some candles. Where's that flashlight? Oh, yeah, right here on my key chain, where I keep it for moments like these (and for seeing behind my computers). But it wasn't the monumental, news-breaking blackout we had hoped for--we found this out pretty quickly when Nati called and said that his lights were as turned on as a Runaway Bride in Vegas. So we took our wine outside, joined our neighbors for some chain smoking in the dark, and waited. And waited. Not a few hours later, our lights were back on without much fanfare. What a waste.

I picked up Adam Gopnik's Paris to the Moon for the second time in five years, and read a few more articles. Adam Gopnik is very smart, yes, very creative, but too pretentious. Funny how I didn't notice that five years ago. What a waste.

I just got back from the gym, and don't feel the slightest bit thinner. What a waste.