A stale old entry. I am listening to the Pixies, I am going to a show tonight.
Thursday, Jan. 20, 2005 - 18:06

(Here are things I wrote on small pages yesterday at work. I apparently thought they were worthwhile enough to type them up last night and stay up past my bedtime in the hope that diaryland would reawaken. Now I don't care, they are old, but here they are anyway. I am drinking a beer:)

The problem with me is that I'm one of the dumbest people I know. I know some things, like that 'goodbye' comes from 'god be with ye', but most things, the things that are important and that everyone else knows, I don't know. So, like, everyone else can either get a job doing what they want or get some other job but at least know what job it is that they're not doing but could be doing, but I'm too clueless to even figure this out. This is not some dumb adult "wah I don't know what I want to do with my life" thing - I know what I want to do: nothing. I just want to be doing something while I'm doing it, something so I'm not bored and malcontent and useless and under-utilized while I'm waiting to die.

My Supergold membership is going to run out imminently and I'm just going to sit here and watch it happen. Maybe it'll last a day, maybe a couple weeks, I don't know, but I'm in a weird ornery selfish malcontent self-satisfied self-absorbed self-glorifying grandiose lioness sort of mood, I think, and until I go back to my normal stick-in-the-mudiness I'll just continue being a brat. Also, I don't have much money and supergilded ego memberships are a dispensible luxury.

What sort of job would I like?

One where I'm not sitting at a computer all day, clicking and pointing.
One that has some purpose other than making some rich guy richer.
One that has smart people in charge.
One with nice bathrooms.

I would like to create something, get a sense of accomplishment. Large company, small business, both are fine as long as they're not fucked up/irrational/ridiculous/bloated/retarded.

I would like to work for a publishing company or press. I would like to do editing, and I would also like to be involved in the whole process. But I don't know how. I don't even know what the whole process is. I don't know anything about the publishing or printing industries.

I wish someone would just hire me without me having to put forth any effort.

I will dazzle them! But my job-seeking abilities are not dazzling, alas.

I met a 3-legged cat tonight. Before I met him I wondered if I had bed bugs. I have mysterious bites on me suddenly.

I looked up bed bugs on the internet, since I have had no previous experience with them.

If I do have bed bugs I will burn my mattress and everything I own including my clothes and I will run naked over to the Sound with the only thing I will not have burned clutched in my left hand - my bottle of Dr. Bronner's peppermint soap. And I will run into the water and cleanse myself, all over, my hair, my body, my mouth, my private personal holes. (With peppermint soap that will be extremely refreshing.) The police will come and gently coax me out of the water. I will come out slowly, smiling, but I will rush back in unexpectedly to cleanse myself again - I will need it, there's lice in jail probably. I will probably make the news.

That's all what I thought before meeting the 3-legged cat. But then I met him and after talking to his owner I think maybe it's MITES FROM RATS. RATS. MITES. OR MAYBE IT'S STILL THE FUCKING FLEAS.

I am going to be moving soon.

(Yeah, I'm not super anymore, comments don't work right now.)