You can call this an emo rant, if you want
Maybe I'm having an off month.
October used to be my favourite month: trees were turning, air got cooler, and there's All Hallow's Eve.
'Cept down here, the weather yo-yos so much that you don't know what season you're in. There are no trees to see, and I don't give a crap about any holiday, much less Halloween.
*sigh*
There's so much to write, yet there's not a single thing to say . . .
I cut myself this morning on some plastic. My thought? "Don't get it on your new purple shirt."
I hate purple.
But I can wear it so I am.
My life can't be filled with green, white, and black, I guess.
"Didn't you wear that shirt yesterday?"
"No, that was my other green shirt. This one is darker."
:/
Got a speech from Kennard the security officer about how I shouldn't be a librarian if it's not what I want to be. I told him that musicians and authors don't eat very well.
But then again, if I was a musician or an author, I could be a starving artist . . .
I never seem to have time to write anymore. I haven't read an actual book since I started full time back in April. I never seem to have time.
And NaNoWriMo is next month. I think if I do make an effort to write, I will finally do the mystery I mentally started. It's kinda funny . . .
But I don't feel funny.
Or creative.
Or smart.
I tried reading what Chris-Luke wrote in his journal and I stared and stared and stared . . . I realized I've lost my ability to read academic papers.
Which sucks, considering I wanted to start Grad school . . .
*sigh*
I'm doing something I can do and do well. But is it something I enjoy? Yes . . . and no.
Some days I hate getting up and going to work.
But that's the goal in life isn't it? Get an education, get a job, make money, die.
Must be the evil purple shirt talking.
I have books to put away . . . I slacked off last night and didn't put away as many books as I should have.
October used to be my favourite month: trees were turning, air got cooler, and there's All Hallow's Eve.
'Cept down here, the weather yo-yos so much that you don't know what season you're in. There are no trees to see, and I don't give a crap about any holiday, much less Halloween.
*sigh*
There's so much to write, yet there's not a single thing to say . . .
I cut myself this morning on some plastic. My thought? "Don't get it on your new purple shirt."
I hate purple.
But I can wear it so I am.
My life can't be filled with green, white, and black, I guess.
"Didn't you wear that shirt yesterday?"
"No, that was my other green shirt. This one is darker."
:/
Got a speech from Kennard the security officer about how I shouldn't be a librarian if it's not what I want to be. I told him that musicians and authors don't eat very well.
But then again, if I was a musician or an author, I could be a starving artist . . .
I never seem to have time to write anymore. I haven't read an actual book since I started full time back in April. I never seem to have time.
And NaNoWriMo is next month. I think if I do make an effort to write, I will finally do the mystery I mentally started. It's kinda funny . . .
But I don't feel funny.
Or creative.
Or smart.
I tried reading what Chris-Luke wrote in his journal and I stared and stared and stared . . . I realized I've lost my ability to read academic papers.
Which sucks, considering I wanted to start Grad school . . .
*sigh*
I'm doing something I can do and do well. But is it something I enjoy? Yes . . . and no.
Some days I hate getting up and going to work.
But that's the goal in life isn't it? Get an education, get a job, make money, die.
Must be the evil purple shirt talking.
I have books to put away . . . I slacked off last night and didn't put away as many books as I should have.