Slipping into obscurity

It's friday night, and I'm basking in the pallid glow of a computer screen. Tapping away the same old lines on the same old keyboard. This has come to feel like a bad Sisyphean joke. You get the feeling you're gradually, inescapably sinking into the soul-numbing waters of the sea of obscurity when:

1) You coax yourself into believing that a view of the City lights from your twelfth-floor office isn't all that bad when you could be whiling the night away in the company of great beer, great friends, and great music.
2) The thread that binds you to all your friends is reinforced by your common interest in the C# programming language and the progress of the 2009.0.0.1 edition of Interprise Suite. Hey, its cool to have friends at work, but where did all my beach buddies go?
3) Messages from 2977 is the only reason your phone is ringing.

I guess this is all part of the inevitable, the next piece of the puzzle. Easing into the slow life as we approach the apogee of our orbits. Slipping into that lazy boy after a hard day's work and watching soap with the wife. Helping the kids with the homework. Dissecting the stock market with Tristan and Lemuel. This could be cool, i guess. Just not in the near forseeable future.