It is raining right now and I feel nothing, really. A bit tired. A bit of heat from the laptop. A bit thirsty. A bit annoyed. A bit "I'm going to kick some ass." A bit "I know I won't really kick some ass."

A bit of nothing, really. My mind and I have been wedded for so long that anything on the verge of appearing interesting right now is shrugged off. All right, I guess.

I liked playing chess last night. The game finished almost an hour and a half after beginning due to instructional breaks and sips of Arnold Palmer.

"Non-linear," I repeated at one point, picking up my pen to write down the note.

Mike sighed. "I'm going to need patience."

My king danced around the board for a solid twenty minutes. He refused to get captured. Sort of like me in many things, I think. Losing but holding off the final moments, waiting for a breakthrough, a miraculous mishap, anything.

I liked having to think in all different directions, none of which would really mean anything in the end. But they did right then. It was so incredibly pressing that I move on this diagonal and not on that one. That I advanced up the side. That I stayed put and discovered a defense that I hadn't realized earlier.

I challenged Steve to a match:

"hahahaha is that what you needed help with???"

Well...yes.

"sounds reasonable."

Then later,

"P.S. Jay told me that he saw you at the library...practicing chess. I laughed. At you, naturally."

It's on, Steve. It is on.

I don't really care if it's on or not, though. It will be something to do. Something to write about.

It continues raining, something falls to the floor in another room, and I'm still here with not much of anything.