Hot Dog City

Last Wednesday I woke up at 4:36 a.m. and typed this into my Notes app, then immediately went back to sleep:
Nighttime in Hot Dog City in Hokkaido, Japan. A flightless tailless hot dog throws coins on the table as it leaves the diner.
I can't stop thinking about the implication that somewhere out there, there are both flying hot dogs and hot dogs with tails.

Also last Wednesday, a wave of self-loathing crashed over me, reason unknown (but I assume unrelated to the nocturnal hot dog note). It was like a switch flipped, and suddenly I'm wallowing in the horror of being me. Shit. I hope I can stop feeling this uncomfy soon.

Alley Cats Strike is a Disney Channel original movie from 2000 about some kids in a bowling competition. The only thing I remember is this: at a pivotal moment, a bowler gets a spare by spinning the ball around their finger and then gently pushing the ball down the alley.
I've always wanted to try this. Does anyone bowl? Is this embarrassing? Is it something bowlers would really do?

Sex and the City has been my knitting show for the past several months. I finally finished it last weekend.
My review is: it wasn't that great. A lot did not age well. That's to be expected for a 22-year-old show, but some of it was just ridiculous beyond the pale.

This was by no means the most egregious detail, but I am still hung up on it: in season 3, Carrie proudly tells the politician she is dating that she has never voted in New York. In fact, she is not even registered to vote.

Her ass was in her 30s and had lived there for almost 20 years at that point, and she had never bothered to vote?! And this show was considered aspirational for women?! Wild.
After half a year, I have finished the worst part of a long-term project at work. It's about ancient Egypt. My job often involves researching random subjects like this. When it’s a topic that interests me, it’s as close to heaven as you can get in a 9-to-5.
But this was not. It’s time to admit the truth: I hate ancient Egypt shit. Sorry. I cannot bring myself to care about anything related to it. I've been trying for months.

This project won't be fully finished for several more months. And then it will loom over my head for a while longer once it's printed. I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop; what mistakes will readers find? By April or May, it'll be out of my hands.

The building my office is in has a playlist that plays in common areas. Restrooms, lunch spots, hallways. The playlist includes the song "Livin' La Vida Loca." Somehow, my comings and goings often coincide with the playing of this song. I hear it at least once almost every time I go to the office. I hear it more frequently than I ever did when it was first released in 1999.
I'm not complaining. I was a Ricky Martin fan. But it is jarring to hear when I'm peeing at 7:00 in the morning. Living the crazy life indeed.