Toast for Brekkie

Inspiromnia

Though I cannot pretend to the genius of the great night owls throughout history, I can attest to sharing their propensity for late-night inspiration. I'd like to take this opportunity to point out why you, as a reader of this blog, may from time to time be frustrated by a dearth of my words: the unfortunate conflict between inspiration and obligation.

I spent the drive home from the airport this evening writing in my head what to my mind is a sweeping, recursive, synthesizing treatise on the beauty of friends, family, music, creativity, atheticism and astronomy, all put to the glorious soundtrack of Beck's newest masterwork The Information. And now as I sit down to write, I realize it's nearly two a.m. and I must arise NLT seven for work. So chalk this up to the ever-growing list of entries never written, filed away and unpublished, slowly gathering dust on a server farm in Topeka or decomposing in my fertile subconscious. As my mother and I came to agree yesterday: I'm too busy living life to write about it.

I hope that doesn't sound arrogant. If it does, I'm sorry. I'll try to write more if things ever slow down. That or adopt the sleep schedule of Tyler Durden.