Remember that old Monty Python routine with the Gumbies at a hospital, with the line "My brain hurts"?

Well, my brain hurts.

And I know it's not caffeine withdrawal because I've had an XL coffee from Duncan Donuts, a whompass (as we used to say back home) iced tea at lunch, two bottles of Diet Dr. Pepper, and a venti Starbucks latte.

Hmmm. I wonder if it could be too much caffeine?

Anyway, I thought I'd blog a little before my heart bursts. I'm at a loss to decide what to do tonight. I don't want to stay in. I'm sure Mike'nDavid have plans so I don't think I can hang with them. I kind of want to go to this Queer Poetry reading, but that stuff is either really good or mindnumbingly chew-your-leg-off-just-to-get-away bad. Plus it's down on Bowery and who the hell wants to go that far east?

I guess I should go to the gym.

Crap.

I moved to this city so I could experience life in a way that, frankly, is impossible in any of the places I've lived before. And all I find myself doing is the same stuff I did everywhere else. Bollocks.

Okay, I'm just whiny because I feel like there's an ice pick jammed in the back of my head.

Oh wait. There's a play I want to see. Maybe I'll do that instead. I don't know if any of you have read William Suttcliffe's book New Boy, but there is a play based on it over at the Beckett Theater. I think I may head over after work and see how it is.