Because I have a paper to write

That's why I'm posting. I've already eaten dinner, smoked a cigarette, replaced the broken side mirror on the Explorer, checked my email, updated my fantasy baseball team, checked any quasi-interesting sports stories, talked about meaningless nonsense with my wife, removed my contact lenses, done several loads of laundry, let the soaker hose around the house run for a few hours, changed clothes . . . and who knows what else.

There was really nothing left for me to do at this point but to blog.

Soon, I will be putting Hawthorne to rest for good. RIP, Thorny.

Things that are bothering me today:

• A big "Fuck you" to Mr. McElroy and Mr. McDonald, two literary scholars who apparently traveled forward in time from 1982 in order to steal my ingenious idea for my Hawthorne paper. E alluded to the fact that I should probably get used to this (the fact that all of the clever ideas have already been published) in Early American studies, and she's probably right. Using a time machine, though? That's just wrong . . .
• Vacations, surprisingly enough, are not always highly anticipated as being a good time. I'm trying to see what else I could have done with the money. Hmmm . . . I could buy crack.
• Stitching ninja suits from children's bedsheets sounds a lot easier than it actually is. In fact, it's quite difficult, especially when considering that I don't really sew. And I've learned that you can't just cut a police crime scene chalk figure from a piece of fabric and expect it to work. Three dimensional garments are excruciatingly difficult to produce.
• I've been smoking way too much lately. That probably has something to do with the drinking too much lately.
• No one will be around to mow or water my yard when I'm gone to the beach. Maybe I can get someone to yard-sit. Is that even possible?
• Do I want to crash a party with my buddy on Saturday even though it is his birthday? Or do I want to sit at home and stare at my wife and kids? Decisions, decisions . . .
• I've been really digging the hell out of some James Brown lately, particularly "Payback." The beat is pretty damn funky, and there seems to be something cathartic about the James Brown scream. I've tried it several times while cruising up and down the interstate, but I always wind up being embarrassed even though I know that no one can see me. Maybe I just need a little more work, that's all.
• Savannah is shaping up to be a rather costly good time. We could all get into a great deal of trouble without the Goose to act as our paternal figure like he did in Little Rock. Hopefully, we won't catch the Georgian HIV while stationed there.
• I plan on getting drunk this Thursday night, as it will be the last day of class for this session. Beware all.