So I need to learn not to open pdfs, but I keep on trying, and so I lost a whiney post about how I can't ever seem to have a good Monday, and how my teaching has been half-assed and I've been more worried about my IRA than my students, or something lame like that. So I guess this is what I get for a weekend during which I did absolutely nothing productive except sign up for accounts that now live in the ether beyond my grasp.

What ever happened to my work ethic? Even in my comicking days I used to turn something out everyday, and now I am just letting myself get flabby--well, not entirely but I just feel much lazier, much more ready to coast, but then again this is probably just an overestimation--yesterday walking home from Rob Chin's by the NYU dorms I was struck by one of those periodic senses of loss of possibilities and freedom without real responsibility--something about those open windows on a busy city, of strangers whose significances flutter by--there's something much more romantic (or horned-up) about going to college in the city, but that's just probably my wistful thinking.

Enough dithering--to Wifey and bed.