quasi random (kaolinfire) wrote,
quasi random
kaolinfire

mundanity: propoganda, insurance, gerald, writing...

woke up, woke up, woke up, woke up, woke up, finally got out of bed and drove through vaguely hellish traffic to see some really strange old propoganda filmclip type stuffs (fundraiser for http://othermag.org) -- hung out with them folks and hypothermya afterwards, got brunch (hey, it was supposed to be a brunch showing, anyway...) ... folks chatted. split up...

went to the office expecting insurance papers to have been faxed there. (my driving record is, erm, wrexored... so my old company canceled me on my renewal date, and spent a hellish while finding a place that would take me... and they were supposed to fax papers to work... but... anyway...)

so I get home and start to charge my old bike's battery...

and while that's charging I... did stuff. I can't remember what. I think I started working on rewriting an article on "the state of AI" from a popular point of view sort of thing. It's coming along much better than the first one, but I keep getting sidetracked, needing to do reference or giving up on various aspects of it due to not finding info for a particular note I want to make...

and I get out and put the battery back in the bike and work at starting it up (which is difficult because it has electrical issues... plus it's been sitting there for a good few months in rather horrible conditions (construction was happening right next to it, which got mud and dirt all over it, and I'm sure into various things that shouldn't have been gotten into...). so. I get it started and nearly drop it when I realize the front brakes are out. Did I mention I'm on a hill? I manage to get my balance and hit the rear brakes as I pop backwards up onto the sidewalk. oops. then I nearly strain a couple groin muscles and other muscles maneuvering it around, restarting it, and very carefully moving it. I had to move it because a neihbor complained it was too close to their driveway. And they didn't give me any hell the two or three weeks after they asked me... I feel good for having moved it a little further away. I really need to sell the fucker.

and then back to writing.... which I'm sort of getting back to again after getting distracted again. again. again. it's a lot like trying to wake up....
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