(no subject)
In a week, I will be in Mexico.
Right now, I'm lying in bed, one sick boyfriend passed out in an Ibuprofin haze next to me, two papers ahead of me, and one final as a last hurdle before I can get on a plane for eight hours south.
For some reason, the big paper I have--I'm writing something about housing projects, how they're portrayed in media/film/music, and identity... I think--is much more daunting than it should be. Probably because all I've done for six plus months is write quips and funny leads. I haven't written a paper-paper in I don't know how long.
Tonight at work a woman told me to be careful going home, that she could sense something "out there" waiting specifically for me. I should start carrying mase. Not for the things waiting for me on the way home, but for the crazies who come into work.
Here's a theory.
Remember the scene in Mary Poppins when she teaches Michael and Jane that "In every job that must be done, there's an element fun. Find the fun, and snap! The job's a game!"? I'm pretty sure that scene ruined not just me, but my future as well.
Let's get real. There is no work being done in this scene. Mary, Michael and Jane run around the nursery, half-playing with toys and half-snapping their fingers, causing the toys to jump back into place, cupboards to shut in orderly fashion, and clothes to fly into the air, folding themselves mid-launch, and plop into dressers. I'd happily do that "job" every day.
Now I know we're supposed to look through this scene and see the true message, but I can't. My brain remains childlishly literal. They weren't having fun while cleaning! They were just havin fun!!!
That said, I seem to expect that things will simply drop into place for me. That a job will come by my door, that I will become some discovered actress/writer/illustrator/blogger/trapeze artist and things will be set. Unfortunately, life doesn't work that way. I'm singing showtunes and snapping my fingers when I really need to be tidying the nursery.
On that note, spring cleaning starts next quarter.
Right now, I'm lying in bed, one sick boyfriend passed out in an Ibuprofin haze next to me, two papers ahead of me, and one final as a last hurdle before I can get on a plane for eight hours south.
For some reason, the big paper I have--I'm writing something about housing projects, how they're portrayed in media/film/music, and identity... I think--is much more daunting than it should be. Probably because all I've done for six plus months is write quips and funny leads. I haven't written a paper-paper in I don't know how long.
Tonight at work a woman told me to be careful going home, that she could sense something "out there" waiting specifically for me. I should start carrying mase. Not for the things waiting for me on the way home, but for the crazies who come into work.
Here's a theory.
Remember the scene in Mary Poppins when she teaches Michael and Jane that "In every job that must be done, there's an element fun. Find the fun, and snap! The job's a game!"? I'm pretty sure that scene ruined not just me, but my future as well.
Let's get real. There is no work being done in this scene. Mary, Michael and Jane run around the nursery, half-playing with toys and half-snapping their fingers, causing the toys to jump back into place, cupboards to shut in orderly fashion, and clothes to fly into the air, folding themselves mid-launch, and plop into dressers. I'd happily do that "job" every day.
Now I know we're supposed to look through this scene and see the true message, but I can't. My brain remains childlishly literal. They weren't having fun while cleaning! They were just havin fun!!!
That said, I seem to expect that things will simply drop into place for me. That a job will come by my door, that I will become some discovered actress/writer/illustrator/blogger/trapeze artist and things will be set. Unfortunately, life doesn't work that way. I'm singing showtunes and snapping my fingers when I really need to be tidying the nursery.
On that note, spring cleaning starts next quarter.
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