Proof of how out of it I am tonight

So I'm playing around, honing my new VCD-making skills, trying to distract myself from how miserable I feel with this damn cold. The Olympics are, of course, on in the background, though I'm not paying full attention since a) there's no figure skating tonight and b) I have a fever and my full attention is somewhat, well, fragmented.

Being the well-trained little Sorkinista that I am, and being that it's Wednesday night, at 9 o'clock sharp, I haul myself over to the couch and pick up the remote. West Wing time! Glad I didn't get so into the Olympics that I forgot about West Wing! Go me!

There's speed skating on the TV. I punch in the numbers for NBC. There's still speed skating on the TV. I jiggle the remote. Still with the speed skating.

I was just about to get up and go change the channel on the cable box when a flash of insight hit me. The Olympics *are* on NBC. And unless Sorkin's going to come perform in my living room, there's no West Wing for another two weeks.

Well. At least my remote wasn't broken. And West Wing probably would have sucked anyway.

Maybe I should go write, now that most of my conscious brain has shut down. Or maybe I'll just go find someone I don't like and cough on them.

Proof of how out of it I am tonight

So I'm playing around, honing my new VCD-making skills, trying to distract myself from how miserable I feel with this damn cold. The Olympics are, of course, on in the background, though I'm not paying full attention since a) there's no figure skating tonight and b) I have a fever and my full attention is somewhat, well, fragmented.

Being the well-trained little Sorkinista that I am, and being that it's Wednesday night, at 9 o'clock sharp, I haul myself over to the couch and pick up the remote. West Wing time! Glad I didn't get so into the Olympics that I forgot about West Wing! Go me!

There's speed skating on the TV. I punch in the numbers for NBC. There's still speed skating on the TV. I jiggle the remote. Still with the speed skating.

I was just about to get up and go change the channel on the cable box when a flash of insight hit me. The Olympics *are* on NBC. And unless Sorkin's going to come perform in my living room, there's no West Wing for another two weeks.

Well. At least my remote wasn't broken. And West Wing probably would have sucked anyway.

Maybe I should go write, now that most of my conscious brain has shut down. Or maybe I'll just go find someone I don't like and cough on them.