The best laid plans...

Since I've decided to have a respectable go at this who blogging thing, I have made an effort to keep my woefully underpowered, but still functioning little netbook with in relatively easy reach. I do this to facilitate me committing my ideas to paper, so to speak, as they arise from the hollowness of my cranial cavity. I am making a concerted effort to write as soon as I find myself plotting what I like to call an interactive dialog, in my head. This morning I had, what I felt, was a genuinely brilliant subject and probably 100 or so words already configured in my head, so I went for the good ole Gateway, only to be stopped in my tracks by that all too familiar morning whimper of my 2 year old. At the peak of the collision of an idea and the motivating forces of caffeine and nicotine, she chooses to realize that this is a new day with fresh opportunities to test the physical and mental limitations of her Dad. She's two... I would venture to say she's not all that bad for the hell spawned daily penance for the misspent and some what questionable activities of my youth. She's really not a bad kid, sans the fact that suddenly she no longer has the mental capacity to grasp the meaning of the phrases "NO" and "leave that alone". I will be thankful for the day when she returns to having only 2 hands with which to grab all the things that she's not supposed to. Add to that a sudden heaping dose of the presence of the guest that never should have been invited and my trusty little single core companion lies alone... battery dying and dust accumulating. Even the usually reliable BBC America rebroadcast of the X-Files failed to leverage the ever expanding arse of my "third child" from aging the little demon on and back to the marigold laden walls of her cell. All the while, the idea, caffeine, nicotine and motivation fading almost as quickly as the charge in the six cell power reserve in what is supposed to be my new best friend. There was a slight window of opportunity afforded me by one of the 23,000 Disney DVDs we own, only to be, again, put asunder by the tyrannical ravings from the Monster at the top of the stairs about the functionality of the fingerprint, scratch and snot enveloped disk which she chose as the feature presentation. Yet as the Little demon's rampage gave way to the blessed silence of sleep, her elder sister in "this is what your get for how you were when you were growing up", arrived home from school and needed assistance with the Mt Everest of educational extension, that passes for homework these days. At this point the brilliance of the mornings ideas was nothing more than the lingering sulfur smell of the extinguished flame. What was the brilliant idea... trying to conger it up is an exercise in futility, at this point. So here we are... no ideas to thrill the masses... my friend once again tethered to the grid... and me... battle weary yet still fighting to stay the pain inflicted upon my by infections filling any possible open cavity in my head... another idea lost with just a bunch of random thoughts filling the void that should have been brilliance.