So another night of obsessive insomnia. This time I've spent my night googling "Columbia MFA Writing" and reading up on MFA blogs on what people online are saying about my writing program. I'm not sure if this is more or less pathetic than playing internet poker until 6am for, basically, every night this past week, following a particularly inept first-out showing at a friend's house. I suppose late night blog reading is a step up from Virtual Hold 'Em when you consider what I have been playing for during this time is called, embarrassingly enough, "play money".
Earlier tonight I was describing to a friend my excitement at outsmarting an opponent and winning around 10,000 chips in a single hand when he asked, "And how much was that worth?"
Oh, cruel outside world -- you just don't understand.
This whole late night madness is just another minor thread in a long string of mordantly sad and useless pursuits I've obsessed over in my life, including, but not limited to:
- comic books
- comic book cards
- baseball cards
- trying to pick up girls by learning the guitar
- trying to pick up girls by joining the speech and debate team
- trying to pick up girls by playing the guitar at speech and debate team tournaments
- intramural softball
- whiffle ball
I'd like to take this time to mention that, in a recent game of pick-up whiffle ball, I nearly hit four home runs. While only one actually cleared the "fence" (a row of hedges about 100 ft away) two of them would have, if not for the efforts of an overzealous outfielder, and the final one, a shot that was undoubtedly destined for the "stands" (a cobblestone walkway about 110 ft away), was just inches foul.