For some reason, I couldn’t get motivated today and spent a good portion of my time at work going over Wired and Slate. But the upside is that I did learn about a law firm in Chicago that took on a case involving those horribly proprietary ink cartridges for your home printer, if you can call that an upside. Then I got some more coffee.

But I spent the evening interviewing the lovely ladies that are bringing roller derby back to the Windy City - where the sport (hobby?) was invented in 1935 - and partying with the appropriately named Windy City Rollers. I arm-wrestled a Roller named Irish and talked about philanthropic endeavors to benefit Planned Parenthood with Juanna Rumbel (say it phonetically), who also goes by the moniker ‘Elizabeth’ to the rest of the world.

Tonight I had another of those transcendent moments, those times when you’re completely sure of what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. Those moments have been few and far between for the last few years. Hold on to them while you can.

Song of the night: ‘Sex Machine,’ James Brown. My friend Anita (she had a Roller last name too, but I forget what it is) was the DJ and was rockin’ ass.

There was a lot of talk about the Red Sox taking the World Series in a sweep the same night as a lunar eclipse. Both happened. Coincidence?

Yes.

Today I also started seeing things through the lens of a writer. This tends to happen when I’m engrossed in a great book - suddenly the world is a canvas on which you can see the smallest tic or gesture as indicative of a person’s insecurities or predilection for Belgian waffles or whatever. And that’s what being a writer is all about, right? Seeing connections that may or may not exist?

In any case, I also had my picture taken to make sure I look just like Alan Keyes in his press release photo. The wonders of practicing Journalism! as opposed to journalism.

Book of the week: ‘A Widow for One Year,’ John Irving. It was kind enough to provide today’s title.

To be perfectly fair, when is it not an interesting day when you have a boss that looks to you for answers and you spend two hours at a Boston Market alternately ordering another yet another piece of cornbread and talking about the subversive humor that is the South Park episode wherein Mr. Garrison tries to get fired because he’s gay and discusses gerbils and orifices that shouldn’t go together, but the one Christian friend of yours gets visibly uncomfortable and has to close his eyes to make sure he doesn’t call down the wrath of Jesus – is that an oxymoron? – on the sinners?

And then you get to go back to work and write inane material until 9 p.m.

Song of the day: ‘In the Waiting Line,’ Zero 7.