I just discovered that, two years ago, a Florida man completed the first perfect game of Pac-Man in a New Hampshire arcade. The perfect game of Pac-Man requires that the player complete all 256 boards, eating every pellet, every ghost, and every piece of fruit, entirely on one quarter. The highest possible score for the game is 3,333,360, and apparently there was a sort of race going on between this American, Billy Mitchell, another American and two Canadians to achieve this milestone.

Something new is learned every day.

I finished the first draft of the Russian architect play this morning, tonight I must hand over several dollars to Kinko’s to have them produce seven copies of the script. Joy and rapture.

I think it’s too good a day for me to be inside, but I also think that the only way I could get away with ditching work right now and spending the day outside would be to jump out the window, and there’s a good chance that, although my desire to be outside could not be refuted, the act would probably kill me. Maybe I’ll just take an extra-long lunch, but then I worry that I won’t come back.

I think I need a new job. I’m a few months away from two years where I am, and I’m feeling less and less like I’m going to end up anywhere else in this company (it’s small, and my immediately superior position is filled.)

I need a new bike.

I need water.

I need to feel less like I’m moving due to inertia. Maybe I’m just hungry much earlier than I expected. Maybe it’s this album I’m listening to; the eels’ brilliant piece of pop mourning, “electro-shock blues.”

I don’t know. Do I need to?

Current music: the eels, “electro-shock blues”