Too many things, too many things, too many things...

The title comes from Boogie Nights. But it is fitting for other reasons. I've always thought my problem was my inability to focus my creative energies. I play guitar, I write poetry, I'm working on the genesis of a short film I hope to make this summer, infrequently I host a blog... Let's not forget about the touch under fifty hours I work every week... and the sleep I get and the sleep I forsake. The wife and kids are starting to feel neglected. (Oh, I kid. I'm unmarried and childless.)

Is it any wonder my promise to revamp the visuals on this site has fallen flat? No. I want very much to learn the language of web design... but I've wanted to learn Spanish for years tambien. ;) There are probably bilingual web-designers out there that are laughing at my linguistic and blogistic shortcomings.

In a digital sense, I pranced around much like the President would at an election rally in the heartland. My sleeves were rolled up. I didn't roll them up myself. But I could have, and you would so not know the difference. I spoke in grandiose terms, broad brushstrokes, well-rehearsed, far-flung notions with no conceiveable means to implement them in practical terms. Then I shoveled half a shovelful of dirt, planted one tree that was conveniently placed just beside the mostly-dug hole, and then waited for the applause. I then yelled, "Handoff!" and playfully threw the shovel to some poor sap who wasn't prepared to catch it. He looked foolish. I tried to ad lib the awkwardness away. It didn't work. I helped him tidy himself up, patted him on the back, and confided that my bulletproof vest was giving me a rash. He seemed to sympathize, but I suspected his sincerity. I whispered to my security personnel to have him detained for being disingenuous, cursed him for probably having voted for the other guy, and left hastily to get away from all the tree-huggers. Later, in shocking abuse of my authority, that evening I ordered a detachment of my best fighter bombers to carpet-bomb several acres of virgin rainforest.

You see? That's what happens when you've got too much on your plate. I need a vacation. Better yet, two vacations. :p

Imagine for a moment, planning a vacation to some remote, exotic destination for one week. Afterwards, instead of returning to the grind, you simply fly to some other remote, exotic destination and stay there a week. If that couldn't get you out of the workaday tedium, I don't know what would... except for maybe having a detachment of your best fighter bombers carpet-bomb some virgin rainforest. Seriously, you should try it. ;)