It's the first third of a fourteen hour flight to Japan. I'm writing now because I really want to play Sid Meir's Civilization IV, but the minute Chib sees something interesting on my screen, he's going to abandon that false hope he is giving me of falling asleep. So the computer comes down from the overhead, and I pop open notepad with the window on max. there's nothing more boring to a four year old than a blank screen. Now the only problem is that I still need to get the game out of my bag, which I have neglected to also remove from the overhead. The minute I start moving, he'll perk up and it's over, Johnny.
I've been looking forward to this trip, oddly enough, for only two reasons, and neither has anything to do with Japan. The first is uninterrupted time with the above mentioned Civi 4. The second is that I thought this would be a great time to start my new diet. I turned forty the other day and realized that I am now thirteen years younger than my father was when he died. I also realized that I am six months away from winning or losing the bet that is the subject of this very blog, and for some reason of the two realizations, the only one that is weighing on me is the bet (weighing on me, LOL). I've had a lot of thoughts about this lately, but I'll spare you the soul searching. I recently read that true glory is to do something worth writing about and in writing, to write something worth reading. If I can pull off the former, I'll be happy. If I can swing both, then... Wait! I'm in luck! Chib announced he had to take a leak, and I was able to convince the wife that I'm too fat to fit in an airplane bathroom with him. With him in the can, I just scored the game I needed from the overhead, and I am signing off!