Sunday Nite, Or Day 13 of Blog365 and I Really Can't Think of Anything Else to Write about So You Know This Is Going to Be a Good Post

It's about 8:40 p.m. on Sunday night. I've got my PG Tips steeping and I'm about to settle in for a couple (or several) hours of work to get me prepped for Monday morning.

I drink too much tea.

Bear's about to cue up the DVR because it seems in our full sprint into 2008, we forgot to watch much to any TV. Damn us. (Or, "How committed you are to supporting your fellow writers!") And we had worked so very diligently in 2007 to accumulate as many programs as possible. Heroes. Pushing Daises. The Office. My Name Is Earl. (More Bear than me). Friday Night Lights (more me than Bear). Project Runway. Top Model marathons. (I may have to delete that admission tomorrow. We'll see how I feel about confessing that in the morning.) There was not an episode of Charmed missed.

We filled whole days with TV. It was my white noise while I worked, the blanket that kept my brain warm when it faced the soul-numbing reality of the blank screen.

And now, 13 days into 2008, the programs are dropping off the DVR, unwatched. The Halliwell sisters are, or are not, up to their usual antics with my witness. I have no idea who's leading the investigations on Law and Order. Seriously, I don't even know if the writers' strike is over.

(Is it over?)

Instead, I've been soaking in satellite radio and discovering new voices. (Cold War Kids! Amy Winehouse! I found out I really do like Interpol!)

So the Halliwell's have been abandoned for the Hallowed Swells of Music.

(Yes, I did just write that. And I'm not even going to press that backspace button to make it go away. As much as we both want me to.)