where are we going, and why are we in this handbasket?

This morning as I was driving to work, I saw a guy standing on one of the bridges that goes over 94, holding up a cardboard sign for all the eastbound drivers to see. Problem: the sun was at his back. He was only a silhouette. Nobody could see what his sign said, and he had no idea. He's probably still there.

Before that, I went to the gym for the first time since March. I forgot my CD player, I forgot my towel, and while I remembered to turn my heart rate monitor on, I did not remember to tell it to start recording, so I didn't get any data. And since I haven't lifted weights in five and a half months, I will probably be unable to move by tomorrow morning.

While I was doing my hamster-in-a-wheel thing, the fire alarm went off. Flashing lights, blaring horn, the works. Now I know gym-goers have a reputation for being self-absorbed, but I had to laugh when the alarm first went off. Everyone in the room took off their headphones, looked around, then put their headphones back on and went right back to their workout. It was at least 45 seconds before the first person got off the treadmill and headed for the door.

Then we all stood around outside for about 15 minutes while the firefighters showed up, milled around in the lobby for a while in full firefighting gear, and eventually turned the alarm off. I spent my time edging closer and closer to the door in order to beat everybody else back upstairs, because I am at least as self-absorbed as any other gym-goer, and also laughing at the poor suckers who were shivering in their wet swimsuits. In the almost-appropriate words of Randal from Clerks: There's nothing more exhilarating than pointing out the shortcomings of others.

One of these days my life will be legitimately exciting. Really.