When I was little, I had big plans for my future. I wanted to be the C.E.O. of a company when I grew up. I used to beg my dad to take me to work with him on the weekends, so I could inhale the scent of the elevator as we rode to the fourth floor, where I would quietly weave my way through the cubicle maze. I memorized the names that were posted outside each cubicle, dreaming of the day when I too could have my own little fabric box to which I could attach my favorite Dilbert comic strips.

Currently, I have a desk job that involves a computer and some papers and some shuffling of those papers, but I have no cubicle walls to decorate. I share a large office with one of the coolest ladies ever, yet she won't let me attach comic strips to her clothing with thumbtacks. (Ironically, as I write this, The Rolling Stones are kind enough to remind me that I can't always get what I want. But! If I try sometimes, I just might find that I get what I need.) I haven't given up hope, though! One day...

Anyway, what about you? Teacher? Veterinarian? Firefighter? What future did you envision as a kid? Is that still what you want? Talk to me, y'all.

P.S. I totally have a stash of Dilbert comic strips, both image files and paper copies, ready to spring to action the moment I have a cubicle wall to call my own.

That AT&T commercial with the little girl who sends her stuffed animal with her daddy on his business trip? It made me cry. Twice. In the past hour.

This job is ripping me to shreds. Knowing that there are people out there coloring me pictures with crayons (or colored pencils, in the case of Jace of Fuse!) is the only thing keeping me smiling these days. Well, that and Sims 2.

(Seriously, though. I love you all. Lots and lots.)

After watching Lucky Number Slevin yesterday, I couldn't help but ask myself why there aren't more movies featuring Josh Hartnett strutting about in naught but a towel. I would pay good money to see that more often, and I would bet my bottom dollar that I'm not the only person on this planet who feels that way.

On a related note, I spent my entire weekend watching shirtless men kicking ass. Guns were fired, blood was spilt, men were killed. Lots of things exploded. Many women, myself included, swooned at the shirtless men and their ass-kickery. All in all, it was a grand time.

And then I snapped out of my action movie marathon reverie and realized that, oh snap!, I have nine binders worth of work due tomorrow morning. Perhaps this is why there aren't more Josh-in-a-towel movies being made. My procrastination is denying you the right to a more fabulous world! Avast! If this is the case, I give the universe permission to smite me where I sit. Surely, one cannot die for a more noble cause.