This could maybe happen.

Yeah, I skipped a day. I was totally on top of it for a week or so...all down the drain. I blame The West Wing. OK, not really. I could never blame The West Wing. What I'm blaming is my tendency to get so caught up in things like The West Wing that the line between reality and stellar prime-time drama on dvd starts to blur. I've caught myself sitting at work worrying about the people and situations on the show. That's not good. I don't, for instance, worry about President Obama's Deputy Chief of Staff (Mona Sutphen...wait. He has two. Jim Messina is the other one. {Deputy Chiefs of Staff then.} Of course, I had to look them up.) and that's real. Josh Lymon, on the other hand, merits a pretty decent chunk of my time.


This predicament is similar to what happens after I've watched a couple zombie movies. I start thinking something along the lines of: this could maybe happen. And perhaps more important: where would I hide (and what weapons would I bring with me?) when the worldwide zombie event occurs? I admit that something is not quite right there. It's some weird holdover from my pre-teen mini-obsession, which covered the same ground--except instead of zombies it was dinosaurs. And then there are the dreams. Dinosaurs coming to get me, zombies coming to get me, people from The West Wing facing tough moral decisions.


Boy, I am saying a lot of things.


My original point was going to be that I did not watch The West Wing tonight. I tidied up a bit--found a home (sort of) for the last five stacks of books in the middle of the living room, the moose painting, the globe I bought at the defunct convent, the slightly wilting peace lily, and the massive picnic basket (now holding various knit and embroidery projects!). I also did a little dusting. Does that sound braggy? I don't mean to sound braggy.


Let me tell you this: I didn't do the dishes.

The moose was painted here in Spokane, sometime in the mid-1930s.
I found it at a Goodwill in Tacoma: $20.00 Worth it.

Mom gave me the lamb--it makes noise, much to Matilda's delight.

A whole convent of nuns probably used this globe.

I think some dinner is in order. And maybe an episode (or two? I have no will power.) of the The West Wing. Once I've made it through the remaining 2.5 seasons this will, I believe, cease to be such a problem.