Started in on my writing class...

But I think it's sort of sad that swapping out one sort of knowledged-up zoom for another one on a sunday afternoon feels like my being...rebellious or something. Feels like life wrongly lived, even if it's too hot to...roam the streets and there's nothing on earth I need to shop for.

Fundamentally, though I did bring up my title problem(Never felt closer to any group of writers than the staff of "Friends' and their "The One With The..." titles) I don't think I asked my deepest question. Which is, essentially, how can I write about people that make decisions when the last one I had that mattered? Was, like, twenty years ago, probably. I do not happen; I am happened upon. But I didn't want to break this guy's heart for me, you know?(Also, there's still part of me that wants to take issue, say somewhere, down deep, I have a choice in me that doesn't involve channel-flicking or ancient electives.)