Don't drive like me

I'm really restless and full of low-level anxiety today. I don't want to be stuck in this chair, this cubicle, this office - I really don't want to be at work at all.

I haven't talked about my life dream lately, and I feel like it, so I'm going to.

I want for Tandra and I to buy one of those short RVs, the kind that aren't utterly impossible to navigate in traffic and aren't, like, the cost of a house. Not one that you tow, either. I want to be able to go from the passenger seat into the back any time we want.

I want to load it up with camping gear and photography gear and a GPS and XM and a cell phone. I want to leave Wichita with no particular destination in mind and no schedule to do it on. I want to stop and camp wherever we feel like it and stop and take photos wherever I see them. I want to drive at night and drive during the day. I want to see the country and document the whole experience on LJ. I want to meet all sorts of LJ people and non-LJ people. I want to interview random strangers at coffee shops. And I want Tandra with me through this whole experience. (This assumes the kids are quite a bit more grown.)

So, yeah. That's me this morning.

I went for a walk outside. We have a little landscaped area in the corner of the property with some trees, a gazebo, a little waterfall and pond thingy. It's actually pretty nice. I'd show you a picture but I can't get Photoshop to work on my machine anymore.

I used to walk over there a year and a half ago when Tandra had moved out and I was having anxiety attacks.

It's 10 AM and it's already a really hot 80 degrees outside. I'm getting to be about done with this hot-ass weather.

I could use some more sleep.

Is it weird that one of my favorite songs is an original composition made for the soundtrack of Grand Theft Auto 3, from before the days when they were uber-rich and could license real songs? I really wish this was a real song that could be found anywhere else, but it's not.

I hate yard work so much that I just won't do it, even when the grass is waist-high. It's true. I'm a lawn slob. Fortunately someone else usually comes along and at least does the front for me.

I still wish that guy in Florida would ship my differential. I'd like it to be here by the weekend.

Correction: make that mid-level anxiety. I'm starting to think I need to (see a doctor | re-examine my medication | get my head shrunk | just get my damn car fixed and go out and thrash it for a day).

(The PIPE symbol means OR, you... you... is there a derogatory name that geeks use for normal people?)

You know those people who have random trivia or good stories for days? Yeah, I'm not one of those, though right now I wish I were. You probably do too, because then something I'm saying might be of some interest.

Here's something - I ABSOLUTELY LOVE The Amazing Race. I'm a bit of an idiot because I didn't discover this until Season 6, but fortunately GSN is now running reruns of the whole series, which totally rocks.

Man, I would LOVE the opportunity to do that. LOVE it. I'd be good at it, I think. Plus, even if you don't win, it's not like you leave with nothing - it's an amazing experience all the way through.

Ok, I can leave here for lunch in 15 or 20 minutes. Maybe I'll do real work this afternoon.

I cancelled my MySpace account because I never use it.
You can't just hit "cancel" and have it be done.
They ask you like three times if you're sure, and then when they're convinced, they send you an e-mail that says, "If you really want to cancel, click here."
So you click there, and you go to a website and it says, "Do you really want to cancel?"
So I did, and finally they said, "Ok, give us 48 hours."
But now I've gotten that e-mail from them TEN TIMES.
TEN.
Apparently they like to annoy the holy hell out of you for cancelling.
FOURTEEN! JFHC! Apparently my cancellation request is stuck in an infinite loop!

So I just e-mailed them.

I am trying to cancel my account and do you realize that I have gotten the stupid e-mail that says "if you really want to cancel, click here" FOURTEEN TIMES? FOURTEEN COPIES of this e-mail you fuckers have sent me now. Is my cancellation request stuck in an infinite loop because your programmers suck, or are you trying to annoy the holy hell out of me for cancelling? KNOCK IT OFF!

Update: 29. This is getting ridiculous.