As Chris Rock said, "Life is long."

I've accomplished nothing in my life. I don't plan on accomplishing anything. I've been sick for two and a half days now, and I'm fucking miserable. If all I have to look forward to is occasional illness and a dying carcass, I'm not interested.

I still get a small kick out of the little things in life: Blackwater losing its contract in Iraq, the return of Friday Night Lights even though this is probably the last season, watching old people slip and break their hips after the ice storm we had this past week, mentally toying with the nonexistent recipe to my not-world-famous chicken-fried rolls with a gravy center, and women with low self-esteem.

But is that enough? Are those good enough reasons to keep plodding along in this world?

Maybe if some of the rolls have cream gravy and some have brown gravy...