Found a mouse in my Lean Pocket this noon. On further inspection, it does appear to be quite lean, so kudos to Nestle.

Health-club parking lot nearly full last night. Had a ridiculously long walk from car before I could work out. #firstworldproblem

I used to be a writer and editor. Now I’m a content provider and aggregator. You’d think that would pay better, but no. I believe I'll try content engineer. No, make it senior content engineer.

Sixty-four degrees in Lincoln today. Enjoy this ridiculous winter while you can, folks. But know what we’re dealing with here: By mid-July, highs will be 210 degrees, streets will be molten and sucking cars under like quicksand, trees and crops will randomly burst into flames and the sky will rain hailstones composed of mercury, Froot Loops and hamsters. Never mind cooking eggs on sidewalks; small children will roast to a lovely medium rare during a mere three-block walk home from school. Whether you look for explanation to the Mayans, climate-change science, Fred Phelps or chalk it up to the Earth offing itself at the prospect of Neutron Newt as president, this shit’s on now, man. But seriously, though, go ahead and enjoy today.

Dammit, already running late this morning. Got stuck in line at bakery behind Bob Kerrey deciding on donuts.

My water heater's capacity is not quite sufficient to fill my whirlpool tub to the temperature I like. #firstworldproblem

For some reason, the likelihood that a man will walk around the health club locker room naked for much longer than necessary, as if he's strutting a catwalk, is directly related to how brutally gravity has ravaged his body and how much hair he has on his back. And, no thank you, ladies, I don't want to know if the same phenomenon is true in the women's locker room.