No More Words

I'm talking and it all seems fair, but really, I have no excuse.

Oh, I could tell you about how, for the past five weeks, I've had no Internet access in my apartment. I could explain to you how one day of "it's down" becomes a week of trying something that doesn't work, to another week of excuses, to another week of making do by going to the building's coffee room and drinking cup after cup of café au lait while emailing and Facebooking until my laptop's battery runs down, all the while thinking, I don't have enough time to write a blog story, I'll just check my email...

But finally last Saturday, without any help from my favourite geek (since, well, he's currently being an asshole) I set up a wireless router and now I've got my pretty Mac-top running my iTunes over there on the built-in with my stereo components, and at night I can unplug it and take it to bed with me and watch episodes of Terminator on Fox.com; and over here at my desk I've got my USJ work computer, a beat-up old Dell laptop, for writing.

I'm getting back into the swing.

Today I got a letter from George Bush. You know the one, you got one too, didn't you? The notice about the Economic Stimulus package? Those billions of dollars George is going to send to us, a couple of hundred dollars at a time, that we're all going to run out and spend, and stimulate the economy.

I'm not American, so what do I know, but I just don't get how this is going to work. I mean, if you got $300, or $600 in the mail, wouldn't you apply it to some existing debt? And if you don't have any debt, well, are you even eligible for this money?

I've thought about what I'll do with my money. I considered spending it frivolously; buying something I've wanted, but was never willing to spend the money on. Like that pair of pink Chanel sunglasses I've always wanted. Or a super duper Swiss Army Knife. Go ahead, laugh. Or maybe I'll get my birthstone ring redesigned — I have a nice stone, but the setting is worn thin and the band is on the verge of breaking.

Any of those purchases would stimulate the economy, wouldn't they?

I think that, instead, I'll send it home to my bank in Toronto and have them apply it to my mortgage. (Attention Alanis Morissette: That would be ironic.)

Next, The Librarian turns out to be an asshole.