I am bored at work today.

I’ve been a “good boy” for several weeks in a row and worked like it was the way I support myself, but today I’m procrastinating something fierce.

It’s too pretty out to be inside when the top is down on my Mid-Life-Chrysler.

Especially since I know the weather is going south again tomorrow and today should be enjoyed while we can.

Besides, nothing is pressing.  That’s a function of having been a good boy earlier, of course, and that way of thinking, as they say, that way madness lies.  If I don’t pay attention to the Crowe & D Summary Judgment Motion on my desk now, I’ll be paying the price later.

I hate it that procrastination and masturbation end up being the same thing: just screwing yourself.

But there’s this patch of sun that I know my cat is enjoying…

And I just ate lunch and would love love love to lie down for a nap …

Sinatra would come in yelping about “where are you?” and I’d answer and he’d jump up on the bed and sniff my hands and ears and, after flirting with the idea of attacking my toes, he’d curl up alongside my thigh …

And, then I’d sleep through the pretty day instead of enjoying it.

So, I guess there’s nothing for it other than to complain to the cyberspace and push around some paper.

But I sure am having a hard time giving a good damn about that legal research I’m supposed to be doing.