(no subject)
so there is this swing dance class upstairs at my work... and all these people are getting all happy about learning how to dance like it's the 1920's.
and i'm supposed to have the magazine finished but i've just been slacking like slacking is my full time job. like my boss actually said, lauren we will hire you to waste your time.
and i've realized that i'm really glad i'm not in ottawa anymore, but that i hate hamilton so much. and i don't miss new hampshire at all. so i'm worried that maybe i just hate every place, because i'm that kind of a person.
milan kundara's "the joke" opens with the main character talking about his aversion for his hometown, and how he doesn't want to see anyone there. and that's how i feel, as if i haven't already made that abundantly obvious.
my cat is excessively vocal. he whines for no reason, at all hours of the night. and i push him off my bed and tell him to shut up, but he doesn't understand "shut up" yet. and if i meow at him he just thinks i'm encouraging him to keep meowing or something.
why is everything i write so fucking empty?
i have realized something. taking journalism didn't make me a better writer, it made me a shitty, obvious writer, and that is so disappointing.
and i'm supposed to have the magazine finished but i've just been slacking like slacking is my full time job. like my boss actually said, lauren we will hire you to waste your time.
and i've realized that i'm really glad i'm not in ottawa anymore, but that i hate hamilton so much. and i don't miss new hampshire at all. so i'm worried that maybe i just hate every place, because i'm that kind of a person.
milan kundara's "the joke" opens with the main character talking about his aversion for his hometown, and how he doesn't want to see anyone there. and that's how i feel, as if i haven't already made that abundantly obvious.
my cat is excessively vocal. he whines for no reason, at all hours of the night. and i push him off my bed and tell him to shut up, but he doesn't understand "shut up" yet. and if i meow at him he just thinks i'm encouraging him to keep meowing or something.
why is everything i write so fucking empty?
i have realized something. taking journalism didn't make me a better writer, it made me a shitty, obvious writer, and that is so disappointing.