It might explain Nostradamas or my addiction to prophecy:
Five minutes now, staring at this blank void and finding some sense of urgent necessity to fill it. Silence. No inspiration or direction presented. I suppose I could delete what I have thus far and forget the urge was even here to visit, but that would be the cheap way out. My taste and nature is far too refined for that!
In no attempt to bead a dead corpse here, I really have to take a moment to complain about work last night. It seems that lately the whole environment has been hostile towards me in general, but last night takes the cake. In addition to my already PMS-induced sour mood, I got to work and couldn't get into my general groove. You see, whilst one is in the photo lab, he or she must create a quick-moving pattern that moves film from machine to machine efficiently and in time. For some reason, I couldn't find that pattern last night. I was pretty much confused for the first few hours I was there, then I just got really exhausted and indifferent. However at about 6:30, the printer jammed. Josh, the pricing coordinator, went back into the lab for about half an hour trying to figure things out, and it did take almost close to an hour to get things working again. Of course, I had backed up orders that forced me to hurridly finish them in a mad rush. Some lady gave me a five dollar tip for my kindness and I talked with my mom for a bit, so the night started looking up. But I should have known better. I was scheduled to leave at 10. Orders kept pouring in, all due at 10 or 15 minutes before or 15 minutes after. Again, the rush began. However THIS time, the carrier that reads the negatives and sends the pictures to the printer died. Seriously, I had 10 orders all due in about half an hour and this thing just cuts out. Luckily the manager got it back to working, but then I was literally running around that lab like a chicken with its head cut off to get those damn orders in. And everyone was coming in about 20 minutes early to get their pictures, so I had an audience to witness my distress. I swear I was thisclose to just leaving with no explaination just so I could cry. Emo.
And for the record, I guess it's been misinterpreted that I hate my job. I just wanted to clarify that no, I actually adore my job, it just gets really hectic at times. And the good times there don't make half as good stories as the bad times. Hence why I do nothing less than complain fully about each day I work.
To report on Chris being away, I've got to say I feel much closer to him now than I did even a few days before. We've been talking on the phone as opposed to the internet lately, and I find that we end up laughing for 3 hours each night as opposed to arguing or misinterpreting. On top of that, we still manage to discuss some serious issues, but we do it openly with no problems. I really think we have our communication advantage set up for us and I couldn't be more relieved to discover this.The only thing we really have to worry about now is how physically comfortable we end up being around one another, but I feel that won't be a problem either. So in that case, I can honestly say I haven't been more excited about pursuing something so promising. Things just seem to be falling into place all around me concerning Chris-- for once it just feels right to completely give into something I adore. I just want to immerse my being with all he has to offer, totally submerge my subconscious in each one of his living breaths. He makes me want to be a better person, which sounds completely cliche, but stands so true here. I legitimately just want to feel better about myself because I know it will get me further in life.
And I know I seem over my head here, but I assure you all that these words I write are all organized ideas inside my head that just can't be written out properly. As opposed to the synchronized pattern that exists in my head, it all escapes as a jumbled mess of perceived idealisms. Just wait and see -- It may appear as a dreamer's cheap ramblings, but it's just waiting to explode as blatant reality. Duck and cover, relish in the aftermath.
I just looked up at my bookshelf, and right next to my Carl Sagan book is the New Goat Handbook. Bet you all never realized I was such an avid goat fan? Or that I used to OWN goats. And still aspire to once more some time in my life. Oh yeah, I'm full of incriminating surprises.
And now I'm full of cello aspirations. So I now deem this entry as done.
Poison hearts will never change,
Charlot
In no attempt to bead a dead corpse here, I really have to take a moment to complain about work last night. It seems that lately the whole environment has been hostile towards me in general, but last night takes the cake. In addition to my already PMS-induced sour mood, I got to work and couldn't get into my general groove. You see, whilst one is in the photo lab, he or she must create a quick-moving pattern that moves film from machine to machine efficiently and in time. For some reason, I couldn't find that pattern last night. I was pretty much confused for the first few hours I was there, then I just got really exhausted and indifferent. However at about 6:30, the printer jammed. Josh, the pricing coordinator, went back into the lab for about half an hour trying to figure things out, and it did take almost close to an hour to get things working again. Of course, I had backed up orders that forced me to hurridly finish them in a mad rush. Some lady gave me a five dollar tip for my kindness and I talked with my mom for a bit, so the night started looking up. But I should have known better. I was scheduled to leave at 10. Orders kept pouring in, all due at 10 or 15 minutes before or 15 minutes after. Again, the rush began. However THIS time, the carrier that reads the negatives and sends the pictures to the printer died. Seriously, I had 10 orders all due in about half an hour and this thing just cuts out. Luckily the manager got it back to working, but then I was literally running around that lab like a chicken with its head cut off to get those damn orders in. And everyone was coming in about 20 minutes early to get their pictures, so I had an audience to witness my distress. I swear I was thisclose to just leaving with no explaination just so I could cry. Emo.
And for the record, I guess it's been misinterpreted that I hate my job. I just wanted to clarify that no, I actually adore my job, it just gets really hectic at times. And the good times there don't make half as good stories as the bad times. Hence why I do nothing less than complain fully about each day I work.
To report on Chris being away, I've got to say I feel much closer to him now than I did even a few days before. We've been talking on the phone as opposed to the internet lately, and I find that we end up laughing for 3 hours each night as opposed to arguing or misinterpreting. On top of that, we still manage to discuss some serious issues, but we do it openly with no problems. I really think we have our communication advantage set up for us and I couldn't be more relieved to discover this.The only thing we really have to worry about now is how physically comfortable we end up being around one another, but I feel that won't be a problem either. So in that case, I can honestly say I haven't been more excited about pursuing something so promising. Things just seem to be falling into place all around me concerning Chris-- for once it just feels right to completely give into something I adore. I just want to immerse my being with all he has to offer, totally submerge my subconscious in each one of his living breaths. He makes me want to be a better person, which sounds completely cliche, but stands so true here. I legitimately just want to feel better about myself because I know it will get me further in life.
And I know I seem over my head here, but I assure you all that these words I write are all organized ideas inside my head that just can't be written out properly. As opposed to the synchronized pattern that exists in my head, it all escapes as a jumbled mess of perceived idealisms. Just wait and see -- It may appear as a dreamer's cheap ramblings, but it's just waiting to explode as blatant reality. Duck and cover, relish in the aftermath.
I just looked up at my bookshelf, and right next to my Carl Sagan book is the New Goat Handbook. Bet you all never realized I was such an avid goat fan? Or that I used to OWN goats. And still aspire to once more some time in my life. Oh yeah, I'm full of incriminating surprises.
And now I'm full of cello aspirations. So I now deem this entry as done.
Poison hearts will never change,
Charlot