Just asked J what I should write about, and the title of this blog entry was her response.
She's right. We've lost about 23 hours to the first season of Lost, which has without a doubt been the highlight of the week. About four episodes each night. We can't stop. She's having nightmares in which she's running around in the jungle and getting impaled on bamboo trees, but she'll complain if my bathroom breaks are too long.
Now we're going through our new nightly ritual of me typing away on the blog, her telling me I hit the keyboard louder than anyone else she's ever met, me telling her I'm almost done, her telling me I'm going to stay sick if I don't go to bed and get some sleep, and me erasing everything and starting all over again.