SEEMED like a big day...

I had epic plans this morning. I was going to write out a list of tasks on a whiteboard and cross them off, one-by-one. But time shrinks. I got some shit done, but less than I imagined. And now it's nearly 6pm.

Instead of watching the full three hours of Digital Playground's latest masterpiece, Nurses, I only got through the first 90-minute disc. Which is still quite an undertaking.

Instead of finishing my Nikki Sixx Celebrity Case File, I wrote another third of it. Which means 500 words and a coupla break-outs to go. I did almost finish The Dirt, though, which is nice. Although I suspect it's already affected me in weird ways - for the first time I'm regretting selling Decade Of Decadence for $5 in 1994. And Tommy Lee's search for meaning and self while he was in prison for spousal abuse actually touched me. I also listened to Saints Of Los Angeles with at least 23% less ironic detachment.

Instead of writing some reviews and articles for Knights Of The Dinner Table, I chatted on MSN Messenger and double-checked some work for someone else. I've even read the script to a mate's short film and given him some hopefully useful feedback.

Instead of writing something erudite for my new blog, I wrote something araldite for this one.

I had a great vego breakfast and cappucino at my local cafe, I sent an SMS reflecting my feeling that all was right in the world at that particular moment, I ate an entire Lindt Easter Egg (the only one I received this year...and it didn't even have smarties inside it!).

I haven't had a shower, a Coke or taken out any garbage. And I haven't decided what I'm doing tonight. Probably stay home and either work, drink or work and drink - rather than, say, go to Black Cherry as I've been lightly pressured to.

I've begun every paragraph of this blog with the letter "I". If that's not the kind of narcissistic achievement I'm hoping to be remembered for, I don't know what is.

I-I-I-I-I'm not your stepping PIRANHA! PIRANHA!