Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
Once I watched one of those news magazine shows, can't remember which, that profiled this fiction writer who also knew like Quantam physics and the nature of time and all that shit that you just generally don't understand how anyone understands and anyway he was asked how he manages to be successful in two seemingly opposite fields at the same time and his response was simply "hard work."
Tsk. Hrmph. "You mean you think just anyone can be creative? Just anyone can write?!"
"Yes."
Sigh. He said he would sit at his desk all day and not leave until he'd accomplished something. I sit at my desk at work all day and get paid while not accomplishing anything, so I'm sure it's no surprise that my tiny, humble little blog has been sitting collecting cobwebs for awhile now.
Please don't leave me.
It seems like just yesterday I came to this sacred spot on the interwebs and bitched about my "new" job. I still hate it and what's worse--it's about to come to an end. I was hired as a temp, and the position only lasts for one year unless you can manage to score a position within the company before that year ends. I haven't managed to do that, mainly because I didn't want to. Now I'm losing sleep fretting over the inevitable: unemployment in this shitty economy. Doesn't help that the governor of my fine state has vowed to reject money allocated for Texas to extend unemployment benefits either.
"What? You're broke and can't find a job? Sucks for you. P.S. How does my hair look? Sincerely, Rick Perry"
In addition to not knowing if I'll have a job when June comes, I'm also unsure of the following: If I'll get accepted to law school, where I'll live, if I'll be with my boyfriend (looks doubtful, which, depending on who you ask, is hopeful). I feel like the cruise ship's hit an iceberg and I survived but am still floating in the middle of nowhere in a dingy, parched, sun-burnt and hallucinating. Only mine ain't the Life of Pi; there are no zoo animals and I will not find god when it all ends.
I do have my music, though. I am currently completely obsessed with the fine looking gentleman pictured above, one Ryan Bingham. This tall drink of water is a Texas singer-songwriter who pretty much could yodel and I'd listen all day because he's so god-damn beautiful. His good looks are really too much. I lose time just looking at him. What was I saying?
Oh, I remember now--what the fuck happened to my youth? I'd like it back now, please.
