At work, and generally thinking about other stuff. Stuff I could possibly be. I think I'm capable of more than sending 200 emails a day then toddling home again. And now I'm managed to get houmous all over my desk. Silly silly.
Well, my day of obligation went obligatorily. I provided the rock, I annoyed everyone, I got insulted a bit, I tried to balance everyone, I got accused. Sigh. Maybe classing myself as number one IS the key to happiness? To an extent, of course. As if I'm number 1, but everyone else is a very close number 1.1, and 1.2, etc. My day didn't really prove to be as inspirational as I'd planned out, but hey-ho, we have to plan for these things. I shall get back on the horse and do stuff.
For example, it may not seem a lot, but today I am wearing a completely new ensemble that I've never worn before. I may look like a colourblind toddler but I do indeed feel like a new person, capable of new interactions. It's so odd how our 'shell' powers us to strive on through the day ahead. (It gives a whole new meaning to 'shell suit'. Power suit!) It does make me think it's worth doing SOMETHING new every day. It's not hard. Take a different route to work, talk to someone you don't normally, read a book you thought you'd hate. Though, I think the latter may not very easily change!
I'm looking at new laptops - to cash in my old and trusty plank of wood carved with archaic runes and freizes or a new state of the art gizmo! (My technological knowledge is limited to 'gizmo'!) This may seem like a small deal but I intend to write big style. Spending hundreds will have to push me!
Anyhow, today I look like a technocolour hippy child delicately slurping on houmous. That's a turn-up for the books. Tomorrow - superhero!
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
Saturday, 2 October 2010
Wow. So I Can Function in the Modern Age.
Well. Hello there. Who'd have thought it, that I would be able to actually use a laptop to write something which actually looks ok on the web! Ha! Hmmm. Without ink I thought I wouldn't have a clue.. but hey-ho. Easy!
I'm a BArd at Heart. Yes, a pathetic, floating wannabee fop, with a desperate need to write but very little substance to write. I think most of us are the same. We feel that every one of us has a need to put something into prose, 'everyone has a novel in side of them' (oo-er) and all that. Well it's true. But not everyone is comfortable enough to write their stuff privatel, never mind publically. I don't think this should be the case. I think everyone has the right to express the little soul they do have, and that is what I want to do here. I want to reflect on my meagre, dull life and think about how to make it better. Everyone reflects, but here I want to write my ideas for change. I'm a bit of a Buddhist, and I love that.
So, to begin, I'll explain a bit about myself. I'm not too old, not too young. Old enough to know what I'm talking about but definately young enough to still not know everything about what I talk about. If you get me. I have a degree, a masters, the usual jizz. I've written screenplays a bit with medium success. Been a lowly runner for film and tv, but without a die-hard attitude and a Bruce Willis pout I regret I cowardly left that world in order to find something reliable. I could say a mistake, but where I am is ok. I've been pulled into the public sector, and spend my days surrounded by the smell of death and old papers, and co-workers who strangely act and look like the same person. I fear I look like them too, and am part of a mass humanitarian blob, but I feel most of the time like a fraud. For this dying public service I balance three jobs - three part time labours in order to receive a pay packet which covers my TV license, LoveFilm membership, and the cost of shampoo. And nothing else. Just like most people I don't know what I want, or what I should do to find out what I want, and often feel a pang of jealously whenever someone I know (and may not even like) does something different and interesting, even if I know it's doomed to fail. I'm not nasty. I just think I'm turning into my mother 30 years too soon. I'm ze enough to try and pull myself out of it, put on some Gregorian chants and mull my misery away. Anyway. From now, I'm trying to improve my lot. Just like everyone else. I'm going to use this as a sound board to raise myself up into some sort of happiness. After all, it's not about the destination, it's about the journey, and the ride. Who knows what's going to happen in the meantime.
Well, I think I've rambled enough for a Saturday morning. A life on obligations cannot be thrown aside straight away, and this afternoon is no exception. MY only day off for the foreseeable future ad I'm spending it running after people who don't even say thank you. I really am an idiot.
Until, the next time, when my life will have changed significantly. Really.
I'm a BArd at Heart. Yes, a pathetic, floating wannabee fop, with a desperate need to write but very little substance to write. I think most of us are the same. We feel that every one of us has a need to put something into prose, 'everyone has a novel in side of them' (oo-er) and all that. Well it's true. But not everyone is comfortable enough to write their stuff privatel, never mind publically. I don't think this should be the case. I think everyone has the right to express the little soul they do have, and that is what I want to do here. I want to reflect on my meagre, dull life and think about how to make it better. Everyone reflects, but here I want to write my ideas for change. I'm a bit of a Buddhist, and I love that.
So, to begin, I'll explain a bit about myself. I'm not too old, not too young. Old enough to know what I'm talking about but definately young enough to still not know everything about what I talk about. If you get me. I have a degree, a masters, the usual jizz. I've written screenplays a bit with medium success. Been a lowly runner for film and tv, but without a die-hard attitude and a Bruce Willis pout I regret I cowardly left that world in order to find something reliable. I could say a mistake, but where I am is ok. I've been pulled into the public sector, and spend my days surrounded by the smell of death and old papers, and co-workers who strangely act and look like the same person. I fear I look like them too, and am part of a mass humanitarian blob, but I feel most of the time like a fraud. For this dying public service I balance three jobs - three part time labours in order to receive a pay packet which covers my TV license, LoveFilm membership, and the cost of shampoo. And nothing else. Just like most people I don't know what I want, or what I should do to find out what I want, and often feel a pang of jealously whenever someone I know (and may not even like) does something different and interesting, even if I know it's doomed to fail. I'm not nasty. I just think I'm turning into my mother 30 years too soon. I'm ze enough to try and pull myself out of it, put on some Gregorian chants and mull my misery away. Anyway. From now, I'm trying to improve my lot. Just like everyone else. I'm going to use this as a sound board to raise myself up into some sort of happiness. After all, it's not about the destination, it's about the journey, and the ride. Who knows what's going to happen in the meantime.
Well, I think I've rambled enough for a Saturday morning. A life on obligations cannot be thrown aside straight away, and this afternoon is no exception. MY only day off for the foreseeable future ad I'm spending it running after people who don't even say thank you. I really am an idiot.
Until, the next time, when my life will have changed significantly. Really.
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