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Do You Know Where You're Going To?

I woke up this morning with the panicky feeling that I'd overslept and was either late for work or going to miss my flight. After all, I'd had a free day yesterday so it must be time to jet off somewhere, be on an early-morning conference call or sit in a branding meeting.

A few deep breaths and some rubbing of the eyes sent Hypnos and Morpheus packing and I realized that it's only Sunday, I'm not in a hotel and I've got another day until I'm back in the trenches. Lord knows what my inbox will look like after not being in the office for so long, but I don't have to deal with that for another 22 hours or so.

We watched the very U.S.-affirming Bowling for Columbine last night. I looked across the living room and asked Larry, "Aren't you glad you immigrated here?" I think he was this close to sleeping with his Canadian passport under his pillow. It's only mildly comforting to remember he's a dual citizen and we could, in theory, live there.

And then, to drive Mr. Moore's points home, this was on the news this morning. What's worse ... a) leaving your 4-, 5-, and 7-year old kids in the house alone on a Saturday night or b) having a loaded gun in the house where they can get to it? Morons.

Speaking of moronic ... the second half of last night's double feature was Swimfan. Ouch. Who greenlighted that? As cute as Jesse is, the poor movie just didn't float.

Don't forget ... Alias returns tonight. Sydney wakes up two years later. Huh?!? I'm so hoping the shark has not been jumped.

Time to get a move on. I just asked Larry if he wanted to take me to the gym or blow me. Apparently I'll be lifting weights ... as soon as his Lifetime movie is over.