I'm sitting here, soggy with drink. I'm almost done with a bottle of Francis Coppola Black Label Claret. It's a tasty $13 bottle of red wine. I'm typing this on a new computer. I made a batch of bread dough with my new Kitchenaid mixer. Tax refunds are bringers of materialistic joy.

If only I were more ambitious and more focused. I become content too easily. I was restless and poetic in college. I was also more turbulent and moody. I want to drive around and write about it. Who will pay me to do it? I work cheap.

Anyone?