Sweet Dreams

It occurs to me at this late hour that I really ought to've gotten more product to put in my hair on my way home today. There was the pressing concern of my bladder to take into account, though that will do little to ameliorate the deleterious effects of a bad 'do come tomorrow.

On an unrelated note, I can only assume that snow on the first official day of spring is no more and no less than a harbinger of doom. My brothers and sisters, we are in the icy grip of Fimbulwinter, and it will only end when Loki sets sail in his ship made of the nails of dead men and the twilight of the gods has come to pass. At which point we are, of course, duly fucked. In the light of all that, my hair situation seems considerably less dire.

To blog about blogging is to metablog. So if I were to compose a blog about blogging about blogging, would it become even more meta? Would it increase exponentially in power, its hair turning gold and its muscles bulging as it roared its defiance to the dark gods of the Internet? Or would it push it so far forward that, due to some bizarre Einsteinian quantum nonsense, it would come back around from the other side as simply being another blog post? Perhaps it would burst free of the shackles of definition entirely, and in its Escheresque self-referentiality achieve sentience?

What if the box the corporate brass wants you to think outside of is labeled "Sanity"? How long would it take for terrible, squamous beings from other planes to usurp the company infrastructure and begin reaping a bumper crop of human souls? Worse yet, how long would it take people to notice?

These are the things I wonder about before I go to sleep. It makes life dreadfully interesting.

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-Me