Nothing of consequence.

My day is notable for its utter lack of anything interesting to write about so I will leave you with some bad, free-form poetry.

<pretend there is a cut tag here to spare you from what follows>

blanched screen and ebon cursor
blinking
blinking
now here
now gone
it mocks me
for i lack inspiration.
whither angst
that i might write of thee?
whither tribulations
that thou might assail me?
bitter contentment gnaws my soul
as i trudge through the valley
of the shadow
of peace.