This is entry No. 244 (take two)
To go until the Dano 250th Entry Celebration: 5

FUCK. IT. ALL. ARRRRRRGHHH! I had myself an entry, a good entry, one with all kinds of stuff from today in it, one all about how I waited at places all day � on the way to the car dealership, at the car dealership, at the barber, at home after lunch, on the way to drop off something, at the office of my friend's company, at the ballpark in Trenton and on line at McDonald's � and I'd named the entry The waiting is the hardest part and was making comments about how it's three song-titled entries in a row (and I know the title is "The Waiting" and I don't need Tom Petty people e-mailing me about it) and it's been too long since I've listened to Petty, but not tonight unless it's Wildflowers because of the mood I'm in.

And my mood is one of detachment, that feeling of not feeling myself, of being somewhere between lethargic and melancholy, maybe slightly depressed, but at the same time feeling for one friend saddened by departure but now anticipating the reunion and another in that happy place of relief and irresposibility that comes with a job well done. I'd written out my day in detail, and just begun to talk about being happy for HAC in Hollywood and envious of Casey dancing away in Chicago while at the same time in a state of perpetual frustration about work and wondering aloud if I'm an idiot for letting them get away with this, get away with my continual six-day work weeks when I'm hardly at the ballpark as I should be � according to one part of my job description � and about how I'm the all-star around the department, the guy who can write great stories on deadline, and when not out in the field can edit and write headlines and paginate all on deadline too, a combination no one else in the office has. I had just vented a little on my need to go into work tomorrow � albeit only for about three hours � for Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals and leave my sister's graduation party early, a party at which I'll have several of my own friends in attendance and while I'm at work watching Game 7 and likely doing just a little work, they'll all be out at some Shore bar or another getting an enormous head start on their drunkenness.

But I lost it all.

I've read many a diary entry from the denizens of D-Land who will often be so distraught over a lost entry that they'll leave it at two lines and retire for the night, cursing all the way. I'd often think, Whew, glad I remember to copy and save important entries before I submit them, just to be safe. And I'd done that, but then I decided I needed to find the lyrics to a song I'd heard on the way home, one that talked about ... try to catch the irony here ... how basically, it could be worse. Everything's not so bad. Tomorrow's another day. Somebody's always got it worse than you do. Who knew Shaggy could be so enlightening?

But just before that, I'd copied a URL for a previous reference (and am now to put off by the whole thing to care to do it again), and lost the entry on the clipboard.

And, of course, those words apply even more now � but there's no way I'm going to track down the actual lyrics now, not without saving this entry first. Suffice it to say that I'll be sure to be "Keepin' It Real."

But it doesn't mean I wasn't ready to hurl my computer out the window after the MTV site caused Netscape to "perform an illegal operation" and be shut down.

It's just that there was absolutely no chance of it hitting one of my bosses on the way down.