My wife and kids have been out of town since the first of the month, and I have to admit that it's messing up my mind. I had envisioned two weeks of intense work on creative projects, interspersed with a DVD film festival, a few nights out on the town, and more than a few beers.
I've managed to produce a couple of radio shows, but not much else. Instead, I've been moping around in a fog, missing my family something fierce. Work is sucking, and home is totally depressing without the usual chaos. It's just me and my dog, and even he's bored.
You know I'm off my game when the filthy Braves get swept in consecutive weekend series, with Chipper injured and bitching, his batting average slowly coming down to earth, as another third-place finish would appear to be a best case scenario for Atlanta -- and I can't even muster one issue of Brave Hater.
Hell, the thing would practically write itself.
I'm starting to feel a little better. I actually got out of the house to hang out with some friends yesterday, and will probably do the same tonight. I updated the Netflix queue, so I'll have that mini-filmfest after all.
What I'm really looking forward to is this weekend: seeing my wife and children again.