The sun never sets on the British Empire? Well the sun never sets on my asshole.
Heylo, squids.
I'm baking cupcakes but otherwise being useful on this (yay) day off. The pleasures of working at a bank, suckers. =) Speaking of being useful, I've spent a lot of time feeling stagnant lately. I honestly can't tell you the last time I remember writing anything, except for the occaisional whiny blog because I've had a bad day. Remember that time in my life when I was SO convinced I would become a famous writer and NOT work a day job? As it turns out, I can't tell a story to save my life. I don't even know what I'd write about. I've become convinced my ambitions were delusional. I am, in fact, a no-talent hack who will never produce anything worth publishing let alone have it published. F.
Ordinarily I'd have tears coursing down my cheeks while admitting that, but currently I am sane enough to realize it's not the end of the world to mull about in mediocrity until I die like almost everyone else. Not everyone can be famous, si? It's highly ikely that I didn't even spell "occasional" or "mediocrity" correcntly.
Nonetheless, I figured I'd update because...I'm not doing much of anything else today. That, and there's always a little pleasure in people telling you it's nice to hear that you're alive still.
On a totally unrelated note, I have a two-day-running craving for french fries that will just NOT fuck off. I am addicted to food and I can't freaking quit. I swear, crackheads have it easy. At least they have the option of quitting. I need to find a way to become addicted to exercise.
I'm baking cupcakes but otherwise being useful on this (yay) day off. The pleasures of working at a bank, suckers. =) Speaking of being useful, I've spent a lot of time feeling stagnant lately. I honestly can't tell you the last time I remember writing anything, except for the occaisional whiny blog because I've had a bad day. Remember that time in my life when I was SO convinced I would become a famous writer and NOT work a day job? As it turns out, I can't tell a story to save my life. I don't even know what I'd write about. I've become convinced my ambitions were delusional. I am, in fact, a no-talent hack who will never produce anything worth publishing let alone have it published. F.
Ordinarily I'd have tears coursing down my cheeks while admitting that, but currently I am sane enough to realize it's not the end of the world to mull about in mediocrity until I die like almost everyone else. Not everyone can be famous, si? It's highly ikely that I didn't even spell "occasional" or "mediocrity" correcntly.
Nonetheless, I figured I'd update because...I'm not doing much of anything else today. That, and there's always a little pleasure in people telling you it's nice to hear that you're alive still.
On a totally unrelated note, I have a two-day-running craving for french fries that will just NOT fuck off. I am addicted to food and I can't freaking quit. I swear, crackheads have it easy. At least they have the option of quitting. I need to find a way to become addicted to exercise.