September 28, 2005
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My edibles are nigh non-existent.
Well, it’s one of those entries in the journal of life. (The day I started writing this, I was yet again feeling nostalgic.) You wake up and the day is wrong before you get out of bed. Bad news ensues. Your job is in danger. Pumblechook points his finger in scornful derision. You’re not allowed to savor the recent victories because you travel the galaxy from crisis to crisis. Despair is imminent, but somehow, from somewhere you summon the confidence to plod on…and it works. It works, but only for a little while.
You slip into high gear that you were so found of working in those many years ago when you were young, stupid, reckless and in love with love. But at the end of three hour’s duration, you’re tired, washed out, alone, old, depressed.
Ok, so I don’t remember where I was going with that cause it was several days ago that I wrote it, but I think you get the general idea. For those of you who don’t know how to interpret my bullshit, here’s a primer: I was nostalgic, wishing I could relive the memories again. I got some bad news that I know the ass would rub in my face. Won’t post it here, but suffice it to say that my job was/is in jeopardy because of a few stupid mistakes. For what it’s worth, I don’t think it is as much now, but we’ll see.
Speaking of work, that’s all I’ve done, hence the no write for a very long time. This weekend was really weird. After I’d worked long hours this past week, I pulled two all-nighters over the weekend. While at the time it seemed like there wasn’t much of anything done over the weekend, in retrospect, the moral support that I gave was invaluable (I think). Clearly, I’m not wanting to say much, but Blue Portal’s latest project is about to draw to a close. Oh, and for what it’s worth, I just heard back from the Big Project, and it’s not one project but two. All that remains is the bid…
Let’s see, other than that, I guess I’m doing alright. Attempting to shit in my own backyard––I mean––trying to talk to yet another girl at work. Save your breath on the advice, I already know what you’re going to say. Suffice it to say that after this one there will be no more shitting in the backyard.
Speaking of such, went to go see Butterfly cause it was her birthday Sunday. She’s orgasmicly happy with her boyfriend and has taken up a second job which will more than provide for her. I can’t tell you how thrilled I was to see how happy she was. At least she’s happy and will still talk to me.
Save for the laborious details, that’s all the news that’s fit to print.
Comments (4)
Ok dude, I can’t take it anymore. It breaks down like this: You ARE young, stupid, reckless and in love with love. Period. I’ll back that up with this; if you weren’t….you wouldn’t be saying that you are no longer. I rest my case.
granted. But I was talking about a period of time where I was more so in love with love than I am now, although you will probably use this comment as further support for your point.
Songs which were popular 6 months ago aren’t “Oldies.” There’s no such thing as an “Instant Classic.” And the “…period of time…” in which you were referring is no different than today. Several years passing, an era does not make. Save this entry, and read it in 10 years. You’ll blush from your own foolishness.
“that’ll be the day that I die”
Now that’s a classic song.