When the internet goes down at work, the wom-chick-a-waa-waa music comes on.

No, actually, when the internet goes down, my work as a researcher can screech to a halt, as it has at this moment � 5:43 p.m.

But now it's back, and I can do what I need to. I can also sit around on my hands, watching the weather to learn about tonight's expected snow and waiting for The Simpsons to come on. Sometimes my job can go so slowly.

I was on the verge of banging-my-head-on-the-desk boredom today. Now I'm frustrated because tomorrow the five of us over here in The Annex are moving to the Expanded Home Office. We're told the movers are coming at 3-4 p.m. Which could suck and could be great ��it may mean we're done for the day. Or it may just hold us up. And with traffic as bad as it likely will be, PLUS the snow, Casey and I might not make it down to Little Silver before 9, which would suck. And make for a late dinner.

So I don't understand why anyone would pay $13,000,000 (that's million, 13 of 'em) for Eminem's childhood home � a dump in a crummy neighborhood � when they can have a nicer home he bought after becoming famous. And that one's only $800,000 (all prices as of 6:30 p.m. today).

These are the things I ponder as they come up in my line of work.

I almost got to talk to the mother of the septuplets born five years ago in Iowa, but I didn't.

Casey and I are making pizza for dinner tonight in the sense that we're opening a can of tomato sauce and spreading it on a crust we'll buy ourselves. But we are grating our own cheese (none of that pre-grated cardboard the store sells) and cutting up our own green pepper. Casey's even opening up her own jar of banana peppers.

Woo! The exciting, sinful life we live unmarried together under the same roof.