When I Consider How My Light Is Spent

So the story goes like this. MM wants to send me a link to a Milton poem because the first line is exactly how he feels. I ask if it's long on account of my ADD, which I don't actually have, but remember his poems being bloody books long. He sends, I read...

When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,...

I gasp and get up recalling an elegy by Milton somewhere in my library. My memory stinks. Shortly after, I inform MM that I've given up because the light is out, so I can't f*cking see. MM screams via instant messenger, "Eureka!"... (ok, let me indulge). He concludes that
I AM THE POEM!

Fin

The story doesn't suck as much if you were a part of my cyber convo. Mostly what it does do is remind me of what I miss.