I can never sleep on Sunday nights. Since I rarely crawl out of bed before noon on the weekends, I'm not tired by my unofficial bedtime. Usually, I lay in bed, staring at nothing, willing sleep to visit me. Tonight, I decided to go with my sleeplessness and actually get stuff done. I finally backed up my old computer (and when I say "old," I mean my Mac Performa 636CD). The problem with backing up files that date back to college is you end up reading things you haven't thought about in a long, long time -- like e-mail messages from your first serious relationship and 25-page papers written entirely in Spanish (neither of which are decipherable any longer). You remember why games like Jewelbox and Seahaven Towers kept you from finishing anything before 5 a.m. And you remember when having a CD-ROM drive was the latest technology.
So, I switched gears and hit the new iBook for some company on the internet. But I've already read all the posts on all the blogs I normally read -- except for the lone West Coast blogger. Normally, I'm more than happy to be alone, but tonight I could use the company. Maybe it was reading all those old messages which seemed to exude joy. Maybe I'm just tired of being the only one awake.
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