virtual chamber pots

When we got home from walking Dixie this afternoon, I grabbed a frozen novelty and sat down on the couch to listen to the rest of a Radiolab show (specifically "So-called Life"). Then I was slumped on the couch chewing on the stick. And then I woke up to the show credits with the popsicle stick still hanging from my mouth.

Shortly thereafter, we fled to the coffeeshop down the street to salvage a few hours of productivity. Charrow is currently muttering about masks and other sundry Flash terms, and I'm trying to ignore the woman who's wearing a t-shirt with the words "I Piss Excellence" on it.

We've been listening to a lot of talk radio lately, consisting mostly of Ira Glass's nasal (yet comforting) voice as he unravels the latest This American Life story and the geeky antics of the Radiolab duo. If you've avoided podcasts, as I had up until about 2 months ago, at least consider giving these two shows a gander. And if you're feeling adventurous, check out The Moth and Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me. I consider each of these shows to be a good distraction from the rabbit hole of blogs that I have in my bulging favorites folder. I can't listen to talk radio and read at the same time, so it forces me to either clean and listen or simply stare off into the windows of our neighbors.

I'm so susceptible to losing hours of my life to the ever growing forum of verbal diuretics that I had to set up folders for viewing priority (e.g. "morning coffee" and "time suck central"). Yet again, it appears I need to grease my social skills and step away from the womb like warmth of my laptop.